Rambling Prose: frail
My paternal grandmother was undeniably frail, whereas my maternal grandmother was outgoing and gregarious. Both of them have already passed away. Whether it was due to advanced age or underlying illnesses, neither struggled for long in hospitals. The frail grandmother was suffering from physical and likely psychological frailty (though it was never officially diagnosed). She lived her life, at least from my perspective, constantly drawing comparisons among those around her, and for the last decade of her life, comparing herself with her sisters. She could not stop this habit until the very last time I saw her at her house, if my memory serves me right.
That is why my paternal grandmother was such a challenging individual to interact with. It was difficult to witness how profound her frailty became. I could not accept her attitude toward my sister, my cousin, and me; individuals were harshly judged based on physical appearance, academic performance (during middle school days), and the degree of kindness shown to her. I recalled these complex memories the moment I encountered this word.