Back in 2003 when my father passed away, it had been just a few days. He was hale, hearty and active at that time and that’s why the shock was more.
I was a few year in my professional career but still lived a carefree existence. One day I could not sleep. The anxiety of my father’s death coupled with thrown into a responsibility of grown up could not let me sleep. I stood in the balcony late at night thinking of future and I don’t know what.
Sometime late in the night, a hand touched me. My mother was standing behind me. She gently took me back to bed and made me sleep. She put her hand on me as I drifted to sleep, her touch comforting me.
For the next few years, she stood by me taking important decisions. As time passed she slowly retired from most of her responsibilities. She would sit watching TV or just being there.
We would assume her presence in the house, taking her for granted to be always there. Although not as active in taking decisions, she was in the retirement mode.
Last few years, she went into retirement from life mode. She wanted her life to end on a good note. She did not want to fall sick and suffer in illness and die.
In July last year, we had to admit her to the hospital for low platlets. This was the first time in her life she was admitted for any illness which was good considering her total lack of any form of exercise or even movement.
The moment she was admitted in hospital, she wanted to come out. She asked doctor and nurses when she will be discharged.
One day when the doctor was explaining to her about a test to be done, she listened patiently and then asked
“abhi kya karna hai mujhe? Bus ho gaya” (what do I have to do now? It’s enough)
The doctor explained her. She listened patiently again nodding her head in agreement but the moment the.doctor left, she cursed
“Yaala kay samajtay?” (What does he know)
After her first visit to the hospital, she was back again in hospital in 5 days for electrolyte imbalance and a nasty chest congestion.
It was a downward trend from then on. On ventilator for 11 days, it was a roller coaster ride. News oscillated between hope and despair.
She did not talk because of the tubes but looked at me as if to ask, “what are you doing to me?”
I was not mentally prepared to let her go. As her condition worsened, I was torn between wanting her alive and pained for her seizure and detoriating health.
Finally the infection totally affected her health and her heart. She suffered for 11 days but prepared me for the final blow.
Amu and me sat by her side as she passed away in her sleep. Maybe we could have not admitted her in hospital where she picked her infection. Maybe we could have moved her to bigger hospital. A lot of choices, a lot of it’s and buts.
She finally got what she always wanted. A quick passing. she suffered a little.
Days and months after she passed, we always thought she was in her room. I expected she would come out of her room and then watch her favourite programs. It was difficult to even be there in her room.
This time I was more strong than during my father’s time. After my father passed away, she prepared me for the life ahead. She stood by me, taking care of me and my brother.
A year after her, we remember her words. Imagine what she must have said in various situations.
My daughter remembers her and ask questions about death and life after. I don’t havrle answers but am glad she has good memories about her grandmother.
There are almost no photos of me with my father. But I have countless photos of my mother. I should have taken more.
A year after her, I am still not able to let her go nor do I want to. She lives in us through her memories.
Always!