Keeping tabs

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.