Maybe Yes, Maybe Not!

Would you watch on,
or walk away,
If crystal balls existed?

Don't we all crave,
if only a little;
for the Midas touch?

What if shooting stars, 
and magic wands
were for real?

Wouldn't we all,
given the choice,
Do just what we like?

Swap wisdom for wealth;
Trade beauty for health;
or extend our days on Earth!

If the curtain of tomorrow,
Could be pushed aside;
Would we pull our hands away?

To watch and to know it;
One's last view of the sun set;
Witness that final break of dawn.

If one could
Refine the future, 
or blur the past,

Would you?
Would I?

The Unsaid Goodbye

"Will you be here when I get back?" Appa asked, during my visit that Tuesday.

"No, I'll be off to pick up Ryan from School and go straight home," I said.

"Okay, then we'll meet later," he said and I heard him roar away on his Thunderbird.

But Appa passed away on Thursday.

-------------------

Everything happened so fast - faster than I could breathe. 

Disbelief and a general numbness helped us through the initial hours. Andrew and his parents went into full swing, taking care of everything. The children were taken care of, the house cleaned and made ready, the funeral arrangements made and a thousand other things amma and I did not know about. I stayed completely by my mother's side. 

Trust me, it's a blessing to be able to grieve; to be able to sit down and cry your heart out; to come to terms with your loss, and not having to take care of anything at such times. 

My brother arrived the day after, on the day of the Funeral. 

On a piece of paper, I wrote words I couldn't speak. I signed as Darling, because my father always called and referred to me as 'Da'ling' or 'kutty'. Liana had become his "sel kutty" meaning 'little darling.'  

I wanted everyone to get a glimpse of the appa we knew and loved. So at Appa's Funeral I gave an eulogy. 

I started with how I had marked that day in the calendar a month ago, it being Liana's 6th birthday. 

6 years ago on the same date my father had become a grandfather. Exactly 5 years ago, Liana had been baptized. We had made festive plans for that day as well. But unfortunately...

Behind my father's rough and tough exterior was a soft and caring human being who:

a. took life as it came - it's good and bad.

b. was brutally honest; clear to his conscience.

c. dependable

d. preferred working behind the scenes without publicity. 

My father might not have sat through a Church sermon every week. But he didn't fake it, if he didn't believe in it. He went to any extent to help. He was gentle with animals. He might not be very social and jovial with guests at home, but he didn't talk behind their backs either. 

That way, my father was better, more genuine than most people I know. 

Appa petted amma. He was her confidante. They used to talk all the time. 

He pampered me; He loved his son; He loved his son-in-law like a son. 

I am grateful; I am proud to call him my father. 

----------           

After the memorial service, was the heart wrenching process of cleaning and sorting up appa's things. It was a slow process, with us pausing to smell every shirt, stowing away trinkets and keepsakes. Suddenly every piece of clutter was a treasure. Everything stirred a memory, now made painful by his absence. 

One of my earliest memories is tripping outside the school over a telephone pole stay. The hurt was more to my pride than to my knees. Appa quickly got out of the car, dusted my knees, and stamped the protruding stump flat to the ground. I had felt empowered. 

With a father, brother and a husband to hold my back, mine had indeed been a mighty fortress! And now it was shaken. 

Now on his desk I found an envelope, with "Dear, Darling appa" sprawled in my handwriting. I had given it to appa on his last birthday. Appa had kept it safely in his desk. My appa had always seemed so unsentimental, and I broke down afresh.  

 

We have all been there, where we have held someone's hands, and said, "I understand." But No. We cannot even come close to understanding, until we have actually been through it. 

How can someone so full of life, so strong suddenly stop existing? 

I asked God for a sign that appa was safely with Him in Heaven. 

One day, when I was crying uncontrollably over some memory, Liana came to  me and (seemingly insensitive) asked me to read a story. She refused to leave after I told her off repeatedly. So I gave in and started to read to her. She was showing me a page from her Tamil short story collection. "My Father who is now in Paradise" was the title and I raced through. 

It was about an 8 yr old girl whose father had died from Cancer. She used to cry everyday, and ask God why He had taken her father away. Then one day, she had a dream. She saw her father looking very happy and he was with God, in Paradise. The father told his daughter not to cry, as he was with God in Heaven. And the girl stopped crying and questioning God after that.

I cried again. 

You have to see Liana's massive, almost-always-impossibly-messy bookshelf to realize what a miracle it was for Liana to pick up that book, that story at that time for me to read. 

This was the sign I had been waiting for. 

Appa had lived life, his way. I have never seen my father lie sick in bed. Age had not slowed him. He didn't look his 65 years. He was younger and stronger than almost all his contemporaries. He rode his Thunderbird until the last day. Only the previous week he had carried both the kids on his arms, down the stairs. Appa will forever remain strong, and manly in my memory. 

The next best thing to not letting go, was to let him go this way. 

A tombstone now reads, 

Doting husband; devoted father; adoring grandfather...     

Rest until we meet again,

 - Beloved wife, children and Grandchildren.      

  

Here is what I had written down that day:

Dearest Darling Appa,

 Have I ever told you?

I am who I am, because of you!

You taught me to fly, to love and to hope,

I am still learning, and I still need you...

 

As a Christian, I pleaded for your soul,

As a daughter, I begged for your life.

But perhaps God wanted you more than I!

How could I hope to win that fight?

 

We know you best, we who love you true,

Thank God for memories until paradise...

Where I'll hug you to my heart's desire,

And hold your strong hands once again,

 

Until then, appa...

 

Yours ever,

Darling.

---------

Wake me up now, and tell me it was a bad dream. I'll believe you. 

Even after 11 months, it still feels like appa is just a phone call away; that I could ring the door bell and he'd open the door. 

He never was one to linger over adieus. And he left without one... 

Expanding Boundaries

[This post has been in my draft for 2 years now. I wrote it when Ryan was 2. He's 4 now. I am no longer a SAHM, and we have relocated back to our hometown in India. Although, much has changed from 2018, a lot of these still holds true! I am posting it now for nostalgia sake.]

     Now that Liana has her own little brother to play with, I spend more of my time just watching and listening to them. Even when they are playing together, surprisingly, they always play around me. Their games and activities move about the house with me, and I am able to observe and partake in their games. I am able to put in a word when limits are crossed, or chip in when help is needed. I am the center of their universe, and our family revolves around me. As a SAHM, I have the luxury of time. And I take great delight in watching them run around, creating havoc on the way. Liana is an avid reader, and it is a pretty picture to see Liana intently bent over a book, and Ryan sitting close to her with a picture book feigning his sister's serious look.

     Not a day passes by without my realizing how blessed the kids are to have each other. Liana opens his chocolate for him before opening hers. Ryan has his biggest smile for his sister. If I am impatient with Ryan, Liana talks kindly to him. Ryan asks for a snack for his sister when I give him one. She watches over him when we are outside, and he trusts her.  To his 2 year old self, his 5 year old sister is bigger, stronger and all capable. We watch with amused fondness, this bond between our two precious children.

     Ryan awaits Liana's coming home from school. We have started skipping the afternoon nap hoping they'll hit the bed earlier at night. But they manage to get double the fun of extra play time at noon, and some more fun time squeezed in before bed time.

     The kids have recently started playing together with their friends from our 14th floor. They are always waiting for the afternoon to come and listen for doors opening - to start the fun. While it gives me time to sit down with a book, or catch up on some adult time with my friendly neighbors, I do miss being the center of my kids world. At times, I feel a tinge of jealousy as  my son skips, hops and runs into my neighbor's open arms. I miss their constant presence and they prefer being around with friends of their own size. While the kids learn sharing, caring, patience, tolerance, taking turns... I learn about stepping back and letting go - even if it is easier said.

     I remember how difficult it was to send Liana to school - to not being able to see her, or give her a hurried kiss; to not hear her voice echoing around the house - even if for only 4 hours in a day. When I got used to it, the kids have grown one step ahead. It is as if the heart always longs for what was, and is in a perpetual state of fondness for what is gone.

     I am adult enough to know this is how it should be, and I go about my work. I hear the kids move into the corridor to play, and I can hear them talk. I can make out Liana's voice saying, "My mummy can... I know, let's ask my mom... My mummy knows everything..."

I smile to myself.

I am still the center of their universe, at least for a little while longer.

A third slice of life

Close Shave:

At a Christian Youth camp, my group was led by a young lady who was friendly, pious and prayerful.

On day 2, she was just finishing up some inspirational story from the Bible, (I don't have the vaguest idea what it was about, all I remember is what followed. Wicked me!). She paused, gazed at each one of us to see how much of her teachings had been sown in our hearts.

"Now, if you have any questions, you can ask me." She said earnestly.

"Neenga shave pannuvingalo? (Which translates to "Do you shave?") asked one girl from my group.

Stunned silence ensued.

"I wax".

(Then in an undertone: "Ennatha kaeka sonna ennatha kaekura paaru." (the closest translation comes to : What I expected them to ask, and look at what she asks)

That she had uttered anything out of the ordinary didn't occur to the questioner. She seemed satisfied with the answer given.

Predictably, I was beyond hope of recovery. I was thankful for the long prayer that followed.

The fight for Liana's tooth:

Liana's baby teeth seem to be in a hurry to give way to new ones. When the first one came off, she asked if tooth fairy was real. She was hanging on my word. Even after more than 6 years, we are still undecided whether to encourage the kids with ideas of Santa, magic and the like. So I said, "I am not sure. Why don't you get it nice and ready and keep your teeth under your pillow tonight?"

At night we took away the tooth and placed a baby fork and spoon instead.

(Tooth Fairy drawn by Liana)

Liana woke up early next morning and sat up. She kept looking straight ahead for sometime, as if trying to decide something. Then she took courage and cautiously peeped under her pillow. Then she grinned wide. "So the tooth fairy is for real..." she exclaimed excitedly. "I am going to keep this safe forever."

Two more teeth went to the tooth fairy.

I was running out of trinkets. But with the 4th Liana started crying and saying she didn't want to part with her tooth. She cried defiantly, "I don't want to give this tooth to the tooth fairy. It's mine." I tried convincing her that the poor tooth fairy wasn't a thief who stole teeth by night.

When the 5th tooth fell, Liana was toying with it, with a shrewd expression on her 6 year old face. When I asked her, she said sounding preteeny, "Why should I give this to the tooth fairy? I'll get only one present anyway... I get lots more for my birthdays and Christmas. Hmph!"

I was glad Tooth fairy wasn't real. She was saved much embarrassment.

Face Saver:

I was wondering why we were being directed to the men's section for Liana's haircut. Apparently, only the men were trained in hairstyling little girls. 

The staff assured me there was only one gentleman in the gents section. And he also had his daughter with him. So I agreed. The 'gentleman' turned out to be a man, 'temporarily blinded' with some Green paste. It was applied with finesse, covering even to his eyelids. He seemed content, and blissfully ignorant of my presence. 

A small voice broke the silence. "Poo" it said, and Pandemonium struck.

The father sat up, as if lightning had struck him. But he couldn't open his eyes for all the money in the world. 

The staff started running around with no clue as to why. Instinct told them they 'had' to run.

(Our expression candidly captured)

"Papa is here, papa is here" said the poor father with a deep chord of panic in his voice. The little one was running around holding her bottom.

One lady staff was noosed and brought to help clean up the child. She clearly resented her gender at that moment. But the child refused to go to her and she was saved.

To escape from everyone, the child sprang on to her father's lap - to her safe haven. A minute later, there was silence. She had fallen fast asleep.

No one dared to break the silence.