It was a cold January morning and we had been hit by an ice-storm. I finished up the last round of packing in between admiring the icicles that hung from the tree tops. The roads were iced and the drive was nasty but it was a pre-scheduled day for moving and the movers did show up as promised!
I directed them excitedly in our new home, ensuring that the right boxes were placed in the right rooms to make unpacking easier. Our phone lines were in and I eagerly called my mother back in India. I decided to downplay the difficulty of the move due to the weather as she was likely to stay up worrying. My mom sounded pensive, Ajji, my grandmother had passed away that very morning.
The tiles of my brand new kitchen were cold and I stood upon them barefooted, "Miss, where would you like this box?"asked one of the movers as I stood with the phone to my ear. My grandmother had lived with our family growing up, I had known her quiet intimately for some twenty odd years."You can put that down in the family room!" I directed him. The movers hurried with the boxes as the weather got nastier, my grieving had to wait, wait for a convenient moment.
Soon I would discover this would become the new normal, there would be others, whom I would say goodbye to while being busy with my work. Its not that I'm uncaring but calling for attention feels superfluous and my mourning has always been a bit private.
This last year I heard my mother convey the news of her sister passing away and I felt sorrowful. With my children growing up it feels like I have additional shoulders to lean on. I described to them the tragic life of my late aunt who had a baby and was widowed at the tender age of fourteen. She died in her eighties and never remarried. My children have doubts, "why not? "In those days they were not allowed" I reply. "How about a boyfriend?" , they question? I laugh at their ridiculousness! "Don't worry, there are no rules in heaven, your aunt is probably enjoying the company of a real good-looking man right now!" ensures my younger one! I've raised them as such, free spirited thinkers, making decisions of their own, and I am amused! But her words would be blasphemy elsewhere!
I imagine deep sorrow in my mother's heart, she cared for her sister and enjoyed her presence when she visited. Like all younger siblings she sought out her approval and my aunt's praises meant a lot to her.
While I have suddenly arrived at the scene of my aunt passing away, my mother has seen the day coming for years together. This time I call my mother to tell her that I'm sorry, I have made the time and am willing to stay on the line for as long as she needs me. But my mother has a plane to catch and a funeral to attend, one that she's been ready for- given her sisters age and health. She asks me to get a grip and take care of my children, she promises she will call back later.
I hang up and look into the empty house, not fully sure if I want to cry or if I want to laugh, I smile stupidly! There are bills to pay and groceries that need to be bought, I leave my home as I greet my neighbor."How are you?", she asks. "I'm good!", I reply!
I will not tell you that traveling back each time will bring closure. Its impossible to say goodbye! At least not until you can talk about your relationship with another in all its honesty, acknowledge all of the expectations, ponder on those disappointments and cherish with love all those special moments of pure wonder. I knew a whole lot of people growing up, there are only a handful that I can invite to such sharing. I know a lot of people now and still there are only a handful that I can invite to such sharing.
I wait for my mother to call me back, we will each unburden our thoughts and feelings, laugh at the absurdity of our lives and hold our hearts when we need comfort. I feel grateful suddenly!
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