At Northwest Prime Time, we ask our interns to write an essay reflecting on the impact and influence their grandparents have had on their lives. I gave this same assignment to our newest intern, Sukhtaj Grewal, a 16-year-old student at a local high school. She responded with this beautiful essay, capturing the profound depth of her grandparents’ influence and love.
Some people make indelible marks on your life that are indescribable. Not just memories but the meaningful, intense nature of who you are and who you will become. My spirit in life came from the quiet strength of my grandparents – two people from Punjab who have profoundly impacted my life in ways that extend beyond love or pride.
I am 16 now, but the reminder of their overwhelming strength surrounded me before I was even aware. I continue to cherish the soft, warm remembrance of sleeping with my grandmother, the oceanic calm of her heartbeat, and her rhythmically flowing breath beside me. I recall waking up many times throughout the night, and the warm, calming blanket of her presence filled the room, promising warmth and calm. Even the air was warm, bringing the experience down to a level of appreciation, and I felt completely okay, as if I were completely safe. It felt as if all surfaces of the world were bathed in her heartbeat’s vibrations.
And then the mornings — those early mornings. Before the sun had spilled itself into our little neighborhood, while the rest of the world seemed to hold its breath in relative quietness, I walked with my grandparents and my brother. At 5am, while everyone else slept cozily tucked under their warm blankets, we wandered over the mustard-filled fields, the air fresh and clammy, full of that mix of scents associated with the earth and growing things. My skin was gently caressed by the cool morning breeze, bringing the scents of mustard flowers and freshly mown grass. My grandfather consistently demonstrated determination in his ambitious pursuits, imprinting a sense of strength and perseverance. Even in silence, his steps instilled a sense of determination within me.
Those walks were more than just exercise or habit; they represented a sense of discipline and devotion. My grandfather, the oldest of his brothers and sisters, exhibited a flame within him that had blossomed out to a light, a drive that propelled him out of bed in the early mornings before anyone else would rise. I can still feel the dirt and grit of the earth stuck under his calloused hands and smell his clothes soaked with earth, and his eyes contained the unspoken vow that success did not come from taking the easy road; it came from showing up when no one was looking.
And my grandmother was the soul of it all. In the howling, harsh wind, she was calm. She created the life of our family. She had prepared many meals with love and care, and her hands weaved stories in every line. I remember her technique — family love was the food that she made. Those spices marinated a good deal of the house; food was her language, and her memories stretched beyond taste. She kept me grounded and made me understand that nothing was worth a victory if you weren’t connected to family and tradition.
Their influence within me is not only in stories or nostalgia — it is part of how I live. From those early mornings, I realized dedication is not glamorous; it is the lonely, quiet grind no one pays attention to, usually to achieve something in life. I learned of their sacrifices before the sun came up, walking dozens of miles and working the land while the rest of the world took a break, which instilled in me an unstoppable work ethic. I learned that drive does not shout; it whispers in your bones and pushes you, regardless of what lies ahead.
More important than hard work, they taught me about resilience and humility. My grandparents faced adversity that would break many of us, yet somehow, they held themselves together with dignity and strength. They were never concerned with awards; their gifts were sweat and dirt, laughter and sharing stories around the dinner table, and the peace that comes with honest work well done.
Whenever I feel lost or overwhelmed, I visualize those crisp mornings, with the misty fields dark and cold, before moving forward with infinite opportunities ahead. I remember the intentionality of my grandfather’s slow-motion steps with me and the easy laughter of my grandmother, who seemed to hum like a promise that I, too, could do it. My grandparents’ lives are a living embodiment of being driven with purpose, not based on ego.
To me, my grandparents aren’t just family; they are simply a part of my being, the silent anchors of my soul. They gave me a legacy of life and unyielding beliefs — and that with dedication, determination, and goodwill, I can rise early, go far, and build a life with real substance and foundation. That purpose is rooted in goodwill and determination.
Sukhtaj Grewal is a 16-year-old local high school student who loves writing, basketball, tennis, and travel. She speaks four languages and has a blog covering global affairs, Global & Glossier: The Business Edit. “I love writing about identity, family, and the everyday moments that make you who you are. Through my storytelling, I aim to connect my personal experiences to something that people can relate to.”
