It has been a while. The memories
remain and the dream of keeping them alive through these snippets still thrives,
but time. Time is such a monster; you believe the priorities you have in life
are what count, until one fine day you forget who you are and what gave you joy
in the first place.
Today is my mother’s birthday. I
remember the last one we celebrated with her. We baked a cake and took plenty
of pictures. I never suspected it would have been her last. I would’ve insisted
on a bigger celebration and a better cake. She always claimed she was younger
than she was – she remained thirty five for the longest time. I claim to be younger
sometimes now, but I don’t think I fool anyone. She, on the other hand, most certainly could. To
commemorate this beautiful day, I am going to share one of my most painful
memories that blossomed into a lesson well learned. A memory that gives me
shame and hurts me to this day. There is no better day to ask for forgiveness
and cherish the wonderful teacher my mother was.
I was in a terrible mood that
day. My mother was on chemotherapy and we had done at least a dozen trips back
and forth for it. I was, at the time, supposed to be studying for my medical licensing
exams – but in all honesty, it was not a priority at the time. I
remember I was searching our house for a very particular set of highlighter pens
- in the pretense of it being an absolute necessity for me to study that
morning. I searched for it with my mother. She went upstairs and searched for
it - for me. After a while, she came back downstairs and told me she found them
upstairs. She went into her room nonchalantly when something in me cracked.
To this very day I regret every word that I said. I asked her why she didn’t bring
the highlighter pens downstairs if she found them. I proceeded upstairs and grabbed
the pens on my desk (where my mom left them after finding them for me) and
stomped back downstairs. And then I screamed at my mother, “I do so much for
you – I come with you everywhere, I come to all your appointments, all the
train rides and waiting rooms; and you couldn’t even bring me my highlighters
downstairs?”. That was the end of the conversation. I went back to pretend
study and my mom just sat on her bed, silent.
It took me a while to realize how
much I hurt her. I asked her why she seemed upset and she said, if we were
keeping tabs she would still be on top and that she didn’t bring the
highlighters downstairs only because she didn’t realize I really needed them
right then. Few among us are unlucky enough to experience moments in our lives
that make us feel like the absolute scum of the Earth and wonder if we are
monsters – this was one for me.
My mother took care of everything for me. Even
when she was sick, she made sure I was eating, studying and not wasting my time
and energy on unimportant things. She made my life function from the day I was
conceived till the very end. There was a very long period of time after she was
gone that I really wondered if my life could go on, if I was capable of living
it with some sense of purpose. Today, for the umpteenth time since I screamed
at my mother that day, I apologize. I apologize for being ungrateful, I apologize
for never recognizing your sacrifices, I apologize for being a brat, I apologize
for never saying Please or Sorry or Thank you because flowery words never meant much to you, I apologize for the audacity of attempting to keep tabs on what you have done for me.
My mother taught me that day, in
love there is no keeping tabs. Tabs are for the petty, when the love is not
plenty. Happy Birthday Amma – I could never love you as much as you loved me; but
I will try until my last breath to keep your love alive. Hope there is a better cake and bigger celebrations where you are.
