The day started off on a very different note…
Rain, dark clouds, unexpected holiday for the husband and little one cuddling
up to me like he does every morning. Holding him in my arms, sat in the balcony
having the morning cuppa, enjoying the absolutely gorgeous lush greenery and
play of dark thunderous clouds in the sky. Rains delayed the newspaper and made
me turn to catching up on social media instead. Chatted with a friend –
admiring the tribulations and joys of motherhood with her. And then… got a
message from a friend how a batchmate of his passed away unexpectedly.
Suddenly. Without warning. Regular life – broken. Regular family – bereft.
Regular friends – shocked. Suddenly the same world view looked different. The greys
took on a different hue. The greens looked faded. Darkness in the sky reflected
my heart.
So many incomplete things. So much more to be
said, shared, felt, done, achieved, experienced. Lives affected irreversibly. Have
seen what happens when a child loses a parent mid-stream very closely – the shakiness
in your core takes years to heal, if it ever heals completely. Can only imagine
what it does to the spouse – from daily life mundane things to sharing dreams
for children… How can you possibly take it on alone? Where will you get the
strength from? What if you want to lean on someone to just rest a minute?
Felt an urgent need to connect. With anyone
who could maybe understand what I was feeling. Shared the ‘ground shaken under
the feet’ feeling. Felt the same fears as me. ‘What if it happened to me?’
Hugged the husband and shared the news. Hugged
the son and mentally sent up a prayer of thanks to the one above. Messaged a
couple of close friends – who as it turned out had a closer connect to the
family than I do. Shared the grief a bit.
Sat in the same balcony again – this time with
the people who make my life complete. Shared the little mundane thing called
life – in this case, breakfast. And then looked at what lay in front of me again
– the rain didn’t seem ugly, the greenery didn’t seem faded. Maybe all it
seemed was that I hadn’t noticed many details earlier. Or had been lazy to do
anything about it.
Declared to the boys that we needed to experience
rain the way its meant to be. By being in it and not on the outside. Cant be
afraid of ‘what if’s and let them rule our lives. Whatever we have of it. Dragged
them both down to be in the middle of it. Laughed, played, ran, wiped tears,
encouraged to be brave but most importantly LIVED. Husband agreed that hadn’t done
so in decades. Son thought parents have finally woken up. Househelp thought a
family’s gone wild.
That was just our way of showing tribute. To life.
To its unpredictability. To acceptance. To determination. To love, laugh and
live. Today. Not tomorrow.
Comments