Age has its own privileges

“Having said all that, your Grandma kissed the old man on his forehead and left the dining room. For about five minutes none of us uttered a word. We all tried to be stoic about your Grandma’s statements, but as soon as we left the dinner table and returned to my bedroom, we all began to cry and bang our foreheads on the floor. For about ten minutes none of us could look into one another’s face.

We felt so ashamed of ourselves that we just slipped unnoticed through a back door of our house and left. The old lady was right.”  Mama concluded. Turning to Cecelia, the eldest of us, Mama said: “Age has its privileges, not least among them the opportunity to distill whatever wisdom come from a long life of experience.”

At this point, Mama started weeping uncontrollably. Mama’s speech was so filled with pathos that there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. At this time the log-fire was getting dimmer and coldness began to set in. It was already mid-night and the city was becoming quiet. I could see how Cecelia and my other sister tried in vain to calm Mama.

It seemed to me that she’d regretted for a mistake she did in the past, and was now trying to advice us against falling into the same pit. What was unusual about Mama is her now pathetic mood. I have grown to recognize her as a firm and resolute woman who was always as steadfast as an Old Testament Prophet in facing adversities.

To be continued…

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