Mother: Unconditional Love

It is a herculean task to put in words to what I owe to my mother. Her originality has been a constant source of suggestion to me. I owe more to her than to anyone else in the world. I have to form myself as I have never formed before even to "write" something about her. Maybe the difficulty for me is not that I do not know enough about her, but I know and feel too much…

Sipping my cinnamon tea and watching the raindrops hugging the ground, mildly in no hurry to be anywhere was spellbinding. During my childhood, mom used to tell me that often she used to observe flakes of ice falling down especially during this month of the year(July) and being in India and that too south India, it is almost scrimpy to imagine flakes of ice falling which is simply incredible. So, I waited for a whole day for the snowflakes to arrive & It didn’t. I waited for the next day and it didn’t. Third day, it still didn’t. Finally when I almost gave up and slept off only to realize that next day early morning my mom started to push me out of bed asking me to see the ice flakes. I have immediately rushed up and went out and Lo, Behold! I have witnessed not one or two but so many ice flakes being spread across the ground. The first thought in my head was, “where is Shashank, my brother whom pushing out of bed was next to impossible in those days! I didn’t want him to miss this either “.  Then my mom said to me, that I had waited for days to see the sight and right now I am living this dream. So, be in the moment, observing, enjoying and dissolve yourself. From that day, I started to live life moment by moment. Today it is again raining & its July. I am waiting for those ice flakes and also for my mom

Sipping some more cinnamon tea, I realized nostalgia took over me and I was remembering another incident during my childhood One fine day, my dad was busy and was not willing to go to temple and I was asked to accompany my mom to a temple…. generally, my mother is a very smart negotiator in a way if suppose one piece is 100 rupees and she without any hesitation asks 3 pieces for 90 rupees. However, what surprises me is that she gets that. But that day when we went to the temple, she had a coconut to buy & when she asked for the price and it was 8 rupees, she asked for a 15-rupee coconut and this moment was somewhat shocking to me. During my self-introspection, I realized that my mother always wanted to offer the best to god, whatever might be the reason…...it’s always the best… Even during our childhood, until the Pooja was completed she never allowed us to touch the food….so for her, god was always the first. This too had a deep impression on me and made me bend towards the spirituality which is way beyond human comprehension. With all these thoughts traversing in my head I have dipped my biscuit in tea. But this time for two seconds longer...

I didn’t have the faintest idea when doc said that my mother has PSP, i asked doc if there is anything that I could do, then she said…” Pray”. It could do a miracle. My Mother has been diagnosed with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. PSP is rare, it is mysterious, and, above all, it is cruel. It attacks every single system of the body, breaking it down, slowing it down, and eventually shutting it down - except for the mind. She wasn't accustomed to needing help, but PSP doesn't care what she wants. My dad guides her through exercises meant to stave off the disease. He says he's never seen her be less than brave or wear anything smaller than a smile. My mom won't beat PSP, but every day she tries to bruise it. They both know someday - sooner rather than later - she'll lose her battle. But before she goes, she's saving another soul: My Dad’s. He tells me when he was a young man, he was so busy with his work that he never used to get enough time to spend with the family. And the days he gets to help her now are the absolute best days because he knows that he is helping someone who truly needs him and his skills. When you are dealing with someone suffering from PSP, your role changes and you have to wear multiple hats and the frequency of changing the hats increases all the more and it’s never easy…. All her life, she’d seen devotion and suffering go hand in hand. With all these roller coaster thoughts, i have realized that the tea became cold and it’s time for me to visit my mother. Since past 25 days, every night, from a small gift store on the way home, I used to buy something for her. Every morning, a sweeper at a cemetery used to smile….

Yes, today marks 25 days without her. It’s true that as time passes some details fade, not because we tend to accept and forget things but because life tends to grow around so much that we have lots of other things to take care “along with this grief” which stays within us for the rest of our lives. And with the passing time, this is bringing clarity to who I am. So, I know I can never move on but I have to learn it as a part of my life When we were together, I felt the safety of your hugs. When I held barfi (my daughter) for the first time, I knew how your heart felt. The love and the overwhelm, and everything ahead of us. The instinct to protect. It all made sense that day, Mom. When I saw that tiny face looking up at me I saw you, truly, for the first time.

I wish I could touch your face; feel those warm hugs; hear you say “Aaaadityaaaa” in that way you did. But I see you. You gave me gifts that I will slowly unwrap throughout the rest of my life. I love you, Mom, I will miss you every day, always. I knew when I said goodbye to you, it wasn’t a goodbye forever and I’d see you again and when i’d see you again you won't be in pain anymore…you won't be weak.

With Immense Regards to this spectacular relationship,
Aditya