My grandparents are the reason I am who I am. My paternal grandfather taught me to be kind. My maternal grandfather taught me to be optimistic. My paternal grandmother taught me to love. My maternal grandmother taught me to be patient. Even my husband’s grandparents taught me many lessons. My husband’s paternal grandmother taught me simplicity. My husband’s maternal grandfather taught me to enjoy the small things. My husband’s maternal grandmother, who was my best friend for many years, taught me to be giving and to always think of others. Our grandparents raised both Dh and I, and that’s why our kids are named after them.

My paternal grandmother, we called her Grandma, raised me. My grandpa and grandma used to take care of my three cousin siblings, my brother, and I. Every day, Grandma and Grandpa drove to pick me up from school, then drive over to pick up my cousins, and then we would pick up my brother. We would go to Burger King and then head on home to spend the rest of the evening. I did everything for my grandparents because they raised me. I never cut my hair for them, out of respect for their devotion to Sikhism. I went to medical school because they wanted me to go directly to medical school instead of taking time off for public health. I prayed because they taught me to. I loved reading because my grandmother and I both enjoyed mystery novels by Agatha Christie. I loved the idea of love because that is what my grandma did best (that and all the General Hospital we would watch together showed me all the soap opera drama love!)

My grandparents taught me countless lessons and one of the most important is that love, in all its forms, is worth protecting. That’s why when I fell in love, I knew it was something I had to honor, even if it didn’t fit the path they had imagined for me. I was so scared to tell Grandma when I found love.

One day I took Grandma to Starbucks, because I knew that a Mocha Frappuccino would be the way to her sweet heart. We sat at a table, and she knew what I was going to tell her because, well, Grandma knew everything. ‘Grandma, you are the one who taught me to love,’ I said. ‘I fell in love, and I am sorry he isn’t Punjabi or Sikh, but I love him.’

She looked away and quietly drank her drink. I told her about him, how he grew up in India, how his family is Hindu, how they are such a kind family. How they moved to Canada where his parents practiced medicine, how he is applying to Family Medicine residencies while I applied to Pediatrics, how his sister is younger, sweet and also interested in medicine.

She kept drinking her frap. When she finished, we got in my car and I dropped her back home. It was different between us for the next few months. I knew she didn’t love me less, but she was sad that the love she envisioned for me wasn’t the love that I found.

At our medical school graduation, she met him in person. At first she was not very happy, but then when Dh touched her feet and grandpa’s feet out of respect, I could see something changed. She realized that he, like me, was raised by elders who taught him respect, love, and culture.

And then she was the one that Dh asked for my hand in marriage. Not my parents, but Grandma. Because she raised me and I was hers. She stood with my parents and my in-laws when we had our parental aardas (prayer for the parents of bride and groom) at our wedding, because I was hers. She was the first one who saw the house we bought. She was the first one we told when we were expecting our first child. Because I was hers.

She taught me to love, and although I followed all that she wanted for me and expected of me, I also learned from her to follow my love. I had to break the norms for her, and it was hard. But I don’t regret keeping my hair long. I don’t regret going to medical school when I did. I don’t regret loving mystery stories about crime (gosh she would love listening to Crime Junkie). And I don’t regret falling in love and following my love, even if that wasn’t what she wanted.

And that is what we all deserve in our lives- the freedom to follow our hearts. In the end, the most important lesson here is that love is timeless. It is rooted in the past, and teaches us to be brave to lead us into the future. Follow your hearts. You cannot ever stop your heart and soul from loving what you do, from loving who you do, and from loving when you do. Love is a human right. No culture, religion, or expectation should limit who you love or how you love- whether that’s a person, a passion, or a way of life. This world can be so cruel at times, dictating to us who, what, and when to love. But I will support you always. I will always support my kids as well. I will support my kids to support your kids too, no matter what. We all have to do this for each other. May we all find the courage to follow our hearts, just as children do. Free from fear and full of love. Look back on your lives, and remember, the innocence of our childhoods. We initially all love everyone around us, but are taught otherwise by the unfortunate nature of politics, religion, and human nature. We need to break that vicious cycle. Let’s stand for each other’s freedom to love, without fear, without barriers. May every heart grow roots and wings, grounded in heritage and free to soar toward its own truth. Embrace all the whispers of your heart ❤

I would love to learn about your life journeys: how have your own roots shaped your path of love and identity?