I don't know why it took me so long to post again. Some days, I want to forget this blog exists. According to medicine, denial is supposed to
be the first of seven stages of grief. Most days, I do not believe I will ever
get past denial. Denial is very under-rated, if you ask me; it can make lies seem true, it can let you live in a dream when in a nightmare, it can be your sole pillar of relief on a stormy day though this pillar maybe made of sand and it's just a while before it is washed away. I know I have to do
this post first, because after this post it is mainly going to be re-living
memories.
I wonder if I will marry someone who already knows me. And
if not, I wonder how my husband will ever understand me completely. My expressions, my
idiosyncrasies, my specific pronunciations, my impression of success and
happiness; none of these can ever be understood completely unless you know
where they originated from, unless you meet the reason for everything I am. I proudly say, at least 95% of my being is my
mother (not genetically, of course); the rest 5% is struggling to be her. To my future husband - how will
you ever know how much you missed out, because you will never get to meet the
person who made me… me.
These excerpts are from condolence e-mails I received from
my friends who knew her, not for very long, but loved every bit of the person
they knew.
"I'm not sure how or where or when it happened but
what I'm sure of is that she's definitely in a better place, and knowing her,
very close to God. I'm lucky to have had the privilege of knowing her through
you. You and your sisters are a beautiful reflection of her and her
values..."
"It’s only when you lose someone that you begin to
really think of how much you appreciate them no matter how small or large a
role that person played in our lives. I still clearly remember her helping me
before one of our dances... My conversations with her were always short, but
always beneficial. Now when I think back, there hasn't been a single
conversation that I've had with your mom in which I haven't heard something
that wasn't useful to me. She was one of those rare 'no-nonsense' people with whom
I always liked to talk. She was also one of the nicest people I knew…"
"My mother always believed that
your mother was one of the wisest people that she has interacted with in her
life. She would sometimes tell me - "Do you know why they do so well? It’s
only partially because of their own caliber, but it's mostly because of
Sujatha's strength as a person."
Words can never describe the person my mother was. She was
not perfect; telling she was would be something people who did not know her
well would say now; but her imperfections were and always will remain perfect
for me.
I only wish I could make my future meet you because without
that, it just does not seem complete; I selfishly say it is not fair. This loss
is one that can never be repaid and hence I choose to remain in denial, on most
days.
