Daadi's next Innings

     

It’s been a year since Daadi left us. It's not my intention to share the many phases and facets of my grief with you as it would be both unfair and impossible in equal measures. Impossible because its literally unlike anything else that anyone could come across and therefore words would simply fail. Unfair because my grief as a son is exactly that - mine only. Like everyone else, you would have your own version of grief in parting with your parents so there is no real need for me to make you feel mine. 

Instead, I will try and share how I am coping with what is now a life that I have never seen before. 

I started my earnest efforts at regular meditation a few days after Daadi left us. Although it helped in some little ways, my big reward came with a glorious vision of my mom one day. It might have been a split second glimpse of a fleeting image but it was worth the wait and one that would last me the whole lifetime. 

There she was, literally out of this world, with a backdrop of blue skies and floating just above white fluffy clouds. She was standing in the best of her Punjabi suits, holding an umbrella and with goggles covering her eyes. Despite that I could see the most blissful, beaming of smiles on her face, as if she was at peace once again. I know that smile very well. She had it when she came back from US the first time and rang the bell to our home, surprising us with her new look and  seeing her family after 3 months. 

Today, just like at a few other times, I tried to rekindle that vision of her for my meditation. Unlike the other few times, it worked and how ! 

I could consciously feel myself there face to face. Somehow, my mind employed a few rules to this meeting. We were not allowed to talk or gesture, just see each other and feel our presence. Despite the unreal nature of it all, it still made sense. She is still smiling. I smile first and then start crying and she has tears too. But she is still smiling assuredly. As if she knows better than us mortals that all will be well with me, us, her family.  

I know in my heart that wherever, whichever form she is in, I will always be her son, special to her and part of her existence. Similarly, however old, mature (or not) I grow, she will always be in me, my successes and failures. I will always know exactly how she would have reacted to my actions and words.

Staying there, sitting across her, smiling and crying with her, I realise its not just me who is special to her. All of us had a very unique, a one to one connection with her. All of us have our own way of relating to her. But it does not matter to me. Unlike my childhood, I don’t mind her having an extra few ounces of affection for Robbie. I know in my heart that my share of love exists and its not a copy of anyone else's share. It is customised and shaped just for me. Its shaped out of the special meals she prepared for me as I wouldn't eat the other stuff. It's cutout for the words she used to assure, scold or encourage me. It is built tough enough to reflect all the courage and fighting spirit she passed on to me. It's from her and just for me. Thats all that matters. Will always matter.

In my vision I suddenly get scared as I imagine she is about to walk away and this will be final good bye. But then looking at her smile, still beaming, still benevolent, I realise she is back home. I can always just close my eyes and go back to see her. We wouldn’t need words. We will not rely on any words. Just that presence will be enough - her presence in my life that will always make my life that extra bit special.  

Dear daughter,

All the strength to you and your faith in my love whenever you need these words of mine.