This is going to be quite a long and sad post, but I need to do this.

On Tuesday 20th February at about 2.30am my paternal grandma passed away in hospital. She had pancreatic cancer but she still had a few months left. But she became too weak and a stomach infection proved too much for her.

The week before she had spent at my house and had left on Sunday night. Monday night at 7pm while I was on a break at work, I received a txt on my fone saying she was in hospital in critical condition. I left work immediately and went to the hospital where all my family were gathered. She was really drugged up with pain relief medication but we still got to talk to her, hug her. We stayed there till about half one in the morning, at which point she was asleep, when it was decided that only my dad, aunt (dad's sister) and mum needed to stay the night. We would be called if anything happened. So we said goodbye to my gran, gave her one last hug while she was sleeping and went home.

Me and my sister were home for literally about an hour when we got a phone call from my mum's sister saying my gran had passed away a few minutes ago.

I didn't cry. I didn't what to do. At the hosiptal before we came home I had cried, couldn't stop crying. It just looked so wrong all those wires being attached to her. What was the point? It wasn't how she wanted to go. I dont think it was. She had lived in Bangladesh all her life. It was her home and yet here she was, living her last moments in a hospital bed. Attached to machines. But she had been driven from her own home in Bangladesh by her daughter in law (my dad's older brother's wife) and her son. She had no other surviving children apart from my dad and aunt. All her other children, the oldest son and 2 daughters had all died from cancer. So that's why she was brought here to London, to be looked after. She was heartbroken about having to leave her home. I will never forgive my aunt and cousin back home for the heart ache they caused her. Even though she had better care here and was surrounded by family who loved her, a part of her died sad. With that knowledge that she had to leave her home. In her last days here there was not a day where she didn't cry about it.

After we got the news we didn't go back to the hospital straight away. Me and my sister just sat there awake, not knowing how to feel, until about 6am. In Muslim tradition what usually happens after someone dies is that family and Islamic priests sit around the body and recite prayers. So thats what we did when we got there. I was so scared to see my gran's body. When I walked into the room with my sister I couldn't see her, she wasn't on the bed. But when I looked closer I realised she was. How had she become so small? Barely a bump under the white sheet. Her face was covered at first. But I wanted to see her properly one last time so we uncovered it. That's when I started crying. It all came gushing out. Not because it was horrible to see and finally hit me. But because she looked beautiful. So so peaceful. Like she was asleep. She looked like she was almost smiling. Pain and heartache free. Made me feel a little at peace myself. In my mind if she had survived the next few days it would've been terrible for her. The cancer would have ravaged her, caused her so much pain. This way she had died painlessly and as we learned when we got to the hospital, in her sleep, peacefully, with her remaining children around her.

That morning we stayed in the hospital till about 10am when her body was taken to the mortuary. It was so hard letting her go. We were all crying, didn't want her to be taken down there, left in the cold by herself. Although we all knew that she was gone we still didn't want her to be alone, in the dark. She might be scared, she needed to have someone there!

After we left the hospital we went back to my aunt's house. We all needed to be together, no one should be alone. My gran had made my dad and aunt promise that when she died they would somehow bury her back home in Bangladesh, next to her husband and children. And in Muslim traditions the funeral happens as soon as possible, the next day even. So when we got to my aunt's house we started making arrangements. At the same time there was a constant stream of visitors and phone calls. People offering condolences and any help with food, money etc.

We had to first register her death and pick up her death certificate. Initially they said we couldn't have it until Tuesday 28th which was a week away, too long. So my dad and my uncle went to the office again the next day, Wed 22nd, along with a Muslim cleric guy and explained the situation regarding the Muslim ways. Thankfully they managed to get the certificate that same day. We arranged a viewing of her body the next day (Thurs 23rd) at the mortuary for other family members. Then my dad arranged for East London Mosque to pick up her body after the viewing until the ceremony at the mosque on Friday 24th. My brother made a train ticket to come down the evening of the 23rd from Hull (where he goes uni) so he could be here for the ceremony the next day at mosque.

On Thurs we viewed her body at the mortuary. There was alot of us but they were very sympathetic and accomodating. We had a slot of 30mins in which we all recited prayers for her and those who wouldn't be at the ceremony the next day said the're final goodbyes. After we left we all went back to my aunts house where we had loads of visitors and phone calls to make. My brother reached there at 10pm due to delays on his journey. It was nice finally having him there. He wanted to come down the night my gran was in hospital but it was impossible for him to and he felt so guilty.

The next day, Fri 24th, we all went to East London Mosque for her ceremony before my dad, aunt and uncle flew back home with her body for her funeral. It was a really nice ceremony, Lots of family came. We all prayed, saw her one last time and covered her coffin in a beautiful Islamic tapestry.

On Sat 25th we all went to the airport and saw my dad, aunt and uncle off to Bangladesh. They reached safely yesterday and had her funeral straight away. My mum spoke to my dad afterwards and he said about 500 people came. Which isn't hard to believe in Bangladesh, everyone around the area and from farther out comes to pay their respects. As for the two people who kicked my gran out of her own home, my dad didn't even acknowledge their presence or offers of help. They deserve nothing from us.

It has been a horrible week for my family. My gran was taken from us suddenly. But it made me realise who is actually my family and friends. In this whole week not once did my, what I thought was closest, cousins from my mum's side ask us how we were. Not once did they call my dad or aunt and offer their condolences. They live 2 mins down the road from us and not once did they come round to offer support and help. Only one of them did, the oldest girl. But she has always been different from them and they always put her down for it. For being simple and straight forward. One of them even saw us on the road and ignored us. And when my sister asked the boy why he never asked he accused her of being cocky and trying to stir things up. Really?? Our grandma just died and we're going to really take the time and effort to try and stir things up? REALLY? We have more important things to worry about. I also realised who are my friends, who really cares. I had so many messaged on facebook from friends and even people I don't normally talk to. It was overwhelming and really helped. But I also had people who I considered 'friends' not even notice, so wrapped up in their own little worlds they were. Not once did they offer any kind words, and that's all it takes. Just a few kind words. But I'm done with those people and I will be better for it.

Had a crap day at work yesterday. Did something really stupid.

I went up to ground floor to get two items of makeup for a customer, went back down to my floor to give them to her. She wasn't there so I picked up some clothes off the floor to take back down to stockroom. When I got there two security guards were there for the random staff searches. I had no pockets or anything on me but had to sign the list. So one of the guards goes to take the clothes off my arm and the makeup (which I still bloody had on me like a dumbass!!) falls to the floor. I actually thought where did that come from? To that effect I said 'Oh where did that drop from?' So now I'm looking extremely guilty of stealing!!!!! And then I'm like oh you can keep that, it was for a customer but she wasn't there. But the security guard says no, just wait here, and then calls his supervisor. How fucking embarrassing. People walking past me looking. So then the main man gets here and at this point I just want to cry and run (even though technically I haven't done anything wrong, just STUPID, really STUPID!). I'm taken out of view thank God. He asks me what happened, I explained. He was really nice about it, said he doesn't think I've done anything wrong, just needs to check out my story. So I'm just like go for it. Ask the girl on ground floor, check your CCTV, you'll see me go up, come down, look around, pick shit up and come down with it. Case solved. Just please can I go now? I'm a frikking law abiding citizen - I'm a law graduate for crying out loud!

They eventually let me go and I didn't hear anything about it again. But I couldn't stop shaking for about an hr after it happened (I've never been in trouble at work before!) and for the rest of the day I was just in a pissed off mood. With myself mainly. The security guards were only doing their job - how annoying! So now I'm just waiting to hear from them, to see if they think I had the intention of stealing the makeup (REALLY??? From my work place??) or just was really dumb (guilty as charged!). They can't say I was trying to steal anyway because I wasn't trying to leave the premises. So yeah :|