When I first met my great-grandmother Jija
It was when I was four in Kolkata, India

I remember the colors, the noise and the rickshaws
The many people young, old and poor

When she saw me for the first time
She gave me a hug
And held my hand

Her English wasn’t very good
So she spoke in Bengali as much as she could
And my mom told me in English what she said
As we all sat around her on her bed

In her room in her nursing home
There wasn’t much
Just a TV, bed, table and a crutch

When it was time to say goodbye
We all found it hard not to cry

We didn’t know if we would see her again
And we didn’t
But I’ll never forget her
She was my friend