The Goodbye...

29th May, today. Ever since that year, this day has always been the hardest day to survive through. It is the only day when I wish for the Sun to never breakthrough the dawn. But it is also the day, when I feel the closest to one of the most important persons in my life. As every year, I took my diary and got myself settled in the most comfortable place of the house. Her bed...As I moved my steps towards her room, I started tensing up. My body stiffened and my steps faltered. It felt like my body was trying it's best to resist the urge in my heart and stop me from entering the room that held memories of her...

I opened the pages of my diary dated back to 12th February, 2015, and inched it closer to my chest. The tanned pages, bumped corners and the woody smell of the diary were the evidence to my years of vulnerability. My diary was like my 10-year-old self whom I told everything. Every conversation, every thought, every moment spent was condensed in between the pages of this book. Even before I could realize, my vision blurred as tears threatened to trickle down my eyes. I closed my eyes as the memories of the days past fled through my mind.

Seven years earlier...   

"It is tough, isn't it?", I wondered as I saw my mother lay on bed, struggling and groaning, trying to sleep through it all. She had been like this for months and there was nothing that I could do about it. It felt like her disease was eating her alive from within and she was trying with all her might to fight it. She has been utterly strong all this time. But since the past few weeks, the pain was too much for her to bear. 

My mother had always stayed happy. Her lips were always curved into a beautiful smile. She'd always sing when she cooked for me. She would never let any situation break down her happiness. And now...her melodious voice was replaced by a deafening silence. Her smile was long lost from her face. All that remained on her face were dark half-moons under her eyes. Her skin had developed folds and looked pale and worn out.

I had always taken her for granted. Never followed her instruction, or valued the time and affection that she had given me. Eight years back when my father died, I saw her break down for the first time. The man she had loved her whole life had now been taken away from her. That sight, that moment is so vividly etched in my mind that no happiness could ever take away that pain or erase the sorrow that, that mere memory brings along. That day, she held my father's lifeless body with all her might and cried onto his chest. No one spoke a word as they watched us embrace him, hoping that will bring him back. She held him by his shoulders, shaking him, as if he was in a slumber. I held his face close to my chest and laid my head on top of his, silently praying to God to let all of this be a dream. Tears were rolling down my face but I choked back a sob. I went onto hold my mother and she clutched me tightly as she hid her face in my chest and cried. At that moment, I did not just feel her hugging me. I felt fear. Her fear. She was afraid. Afraid of losing me. "Promise me something, will you?", she had asked, barely audible. Sitting near my father's coffin was the first time I saw her so vulnerable. "Yes ma, I will". "Don't ever leave me alone. Please". I want to beg her to be there for me too but nevertheless, I assured her that I would always hold her hand and never leave her side. And it wasn't until a few months after the unfaithful day, that my mother's health had begun to deteriorate. 

I turned the pages of my diary to when the days of my misery had just begun...

Breathing was becoming difficult every minute I stayed with her and watched her fragile self, lay on the bed, yearning to get up and move about. But she could not muster the strength to do so. She was never the one to stop to rest. What gave her immense happiness was being on her feet all the time and doing things that only brought smiles to the faces of those around her. Her genuine and sincere actions and the never give-up attitude made people fall in love with her. And now being bed-ridden is what frustrated her the most. Being restricted to not move a limb out of the bed disappointed her. She felt incapable and helpless. I could see how she was not at all happy with the way tables had turned, not happy seeing ME tend to HER. I wanted to break down too. Let it all out. Not wanting the burden on my shoulders. I wondered what it would be like to spend my evenings like the rest of the kids. But I had to stay strong for my mother. I knew I had to keep going, for what those kids did not have was the fear of losing their only family. I could not let her see my vulnerable self. She wanted to be my strength and I could not let her be my weakness. 

She had written a poem for my father that she would read out loud to the starry sky every night, with hope that someday, one of the stars would descend from the sky and grant her, her wish. It looked like one of the ways she had adapted to for communicating with my father who was constantly looking down upon us. I had always loved it. It seemed that reading the poem was the only way that she would pour her feelings out and not keep them bottled up inside her.

But that was till it all became claustrophobic...

"Eat your food properly. Don't go alone in the night. Where are you going so late? Don't take your bicycle out late night. Go and finish off your studies. I don't want you lacking behind. Why aren't you thinking of your future?"

I flipped through the pages of my diary to day I dreaded the most...The day I spoke words that I shouldn't have in my several lifetimes.

She had become over-protective of me. She had developed a fear of losing me to the outside world. It was only obvious that after what had happened to her after my father died, I couldn't imagine what she would be like if she lost me too.

One day, I snapped.

"Take your helmet with you. And where could you be possibly going at this hour of the night? Shouldn't you be in the room studying for tomorrow.", she'd commanded. "I can ride my bicycle alright, mom. And stop! Stop with your orders, pestering me about everything. You are scared, I understand. But what I am scared of the most is losing you. And if you haven't noticed, besides me there is no one really to look after you. So sorry for prioritizing your health over my studies but this is how it's going to be till you get better. And probably after that too. I know what I am doing and I think I am old enough to know what is good and bad for me. So let me live my life the way I want to". I had never spoken to her in that way in all my life. The look on her face crushed my heart to a million fragments as I heard her gasp at my sudden outbreak. Tears were on the verge of escaping as her eyes welled up. To top it all, I did not even apologize and rushed out of the house. The impact of my own words on her mind and the look on her face stabbed my heart. When my words registered in my own mind, I wanted to go back and hold her. But I couldn't. And thus, I left immediately.

I realize now, how much my words must have stung her... How she must have thought of herself as a burden to her own child, when everyday all I tried to do was persuade her through my actions that she was not and will never be a burden to me.

Every evening I would accompany mom to my father's grave. It was like an undecided regime for us. As soon as the clock would strike seven in the evening, I would find her putting on her cardigan and wrapping her scarf around her neck, without me even having to tell her. On our way, we would stop by a florist to buy a bunch of red roses and white tulips to put on my father's grave. He had loved them. He used to always give her these to symbolize his pure and unconditional love for her. My mom would sit in front of his grave and tell him about her day, her sorrows, and complaints. It was perhaps the best part of her day. Maybe she thought that venting out to the grave was the only way for her to talk to someone without them having to shoulder her emotions and feelings. The way her eyes shone when she spoke to my dad's grave reminded me of all those evenings when she would squeal with excitement as the doorbell would ring indicating my dad's return and how she loved to cook dinner for him.

And then came that most unfaithful day, 29th May, 2015. The day I wished never existed. The day, I wish I could wipe out of my life, out of my memory.

That day...After an hour of spending time in the cemetery, my mom stood up and turned to the next grave. Her eyes glistened as tears started to fill them up. With trembling fingers, she placed the remaining of the tulips on the grave. I cocked my head to the side as I watched her in confusion. She turned to me, held my hand and started drawing circles with the pad of her thumb on the back of my hand. I watched her as she brought my hands to her lips and kissed the back of my palm. She closed her eyes and let her lips linger there for a moment. She then cupped my face and lowered it to place a kiss on my forehead. She spoke in a low voice, still loud enough for me to hear, "You've been the best child that any parent could have asked for in the entire world. You were nothing but a blessing to your dad and me. You kept your promise. My love, I want you to be strong and brave. I want you to know that I am very proud of you and the person that you have become. I love you so so much, swee-", she choked even before she could complete.

At that moment, I felt as if the time stood still as I watched her collapse and fall into my hands... It felt like the ground beneath my feet shook as I fell to the ground, cradling her head in my arms. While I looked at her with tears streaming down face, all that looked back at me where those lifeless eyes, as I felt her chest fall down. Never to rise back again. I cried hysterically and screamed out to the skies. 

I was not ready to accept that I had lost my mother until the day of her funeral arrived. Nothing could have prepared me for that day. I sat next to her as I watched her lay in her coffin, lifeless. I intertwined my fingers with hers and lay my head on her chest, hoping that it would rise again and I would be able to feel that rhythmic heartbeat again.

I did not want to face the next day. I did not wake up the next day only to realize that, the hands that once held me tightly when I took my first step or rocked me to sleep, had now slipped away from mine. I did not want to walk into her room only to find it empty with just her presence lingering behind. I did not want to let her go. But I remembered what she told me the night she died. She was proud of the strong person that I was, and I couldn't be weak now. I had to be strong. Especially for her. I took in a deep breath gathering my strength, as I proceeded down to see a few of my relatives already crowded around my mother's coffin in the living room.

I watched as a few of the men lifted the coffin off the ground and rested it on their shoulders. And it is then, it struck me that I had to face the reality. I followed behind them, and watched them as they carefully put her coffin in the hearse. I placed a soft kiss on her coffin along with roses and tulips. "I love you mama. I know this is where we part but I know that you will never my side. You and dad shall forever be in my heart. I know you will be watching over me. You are going to a better place, a place where you would feel no pain, no sorrow, no disappointment. You are going to Dad and just that thought is enough to satisfy me that you are now going to a safer and a better place. Goodbye, mama. See you soon..."

With those parting words, I stepped back and watched the hearse being driven out of the gate. My lips curled into a slight smile realizing that she was now going to happier abode.

With that, I said Goodbye to the first woman who I fell in love with, who fought for my happiness and wiped my tears, who shielded me from the nightmares and made my days bright and colorful, who carved me into the person that I am today. And I was not going to let her down...

I closed my diary, only to notice that my face was now wet with tears that seamlessly ran down my eyes. I wiped my face clean and took a look at the clock only to notice it was 7:30 pm. I pulled myself together and walked out to the cemetery to spend the evening with my parents...