I Swear You Will Be Fine

In all honesty, I tried not to think too much about this Mothers’ Day. I told myself, it’s just another day. I will miss you as much as I miss you on other days. And it was not worth stressing about. Having said that, I also tried to pack the weekend with as many activities as possible so I would not be sad on my own.

I tried not to think of how I would usually wake up on Mothers’ Day to the sounds of you clanking in the kitchen, the one day in the year you would painstakingly try to make me breakfast. I would pretend to be asleep so you would be happy to bring me breakfast in bed (albeit with a lot of Tun’s help). I tried not to think of the pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup or some chocolate dessert with a hot drink, and even the small vase with a rose. I tried not to think of the presents that you, Jess and Ammamma would plan for weeks and me opening these presents while you watched in anticipation for my approval. I tried not to think of the beautiful rose gold cutlery set you amazingly managed to get me last Mothers’ Day.

Several days ago, friends and family started sending me messages about this weekend. I tried to brush them off, more in fear of how I was going to feel. A close friend reminded me that it is a day you would have wanted me to enjoy, or at least have moments of joy. I tried to remember that.

As usual, with whatever powers you clearly have in heaven, you orchestrated the whole day beautifully. A special chocolate peanut butter cake bought for another special mother was very kindly bought for me too. Ammamma still continuing the tradition of buying me a dress for Mothers’ Day. Haren Mama and Sha spending most of the day with us and going out for lunch, and then sitting and talking for ages, a lot about you. Aunty Kal and the girls subtly, or maybe not so subtly, trying to keep me occupied with a shopping trip and dinner. Pretty yellow and purple flowers from a very special 11 year old. And most of all, the bountiful messages from so many friends and family, making me feel so special, and telling me I was a good Mum. So many of these coming from your friends. I truly felt like you were speaking to me through all these wonderful people. The day ended with a walk to the church where we lit candles for you and a midnight snack of Cinnabon given by Sha. It could not have gone better given the circumstances.

And yet, and as usual, at the end of the day, and in the quiet and still of the night, the tears flowed. They flowed for the unfairness of it all. They flowed for what could have been. And they flowed for knowing that there will never be another Mothers’ Day with you again.

I know this was a sad Mothers’ Day. I never thought you would not be here celebrating with me. I know I lost you. And I know Jess is not in the same country as me. But I am still a mother, to both you and Jess. That has not changed and never will. That is also a lot more than many have. And we have so many beautiful memories of many Mothers’ Days. I also know that you will continue to orchestrate Mothers’ Days to come, always ensuring we are taken care of and blessed. For that and so much more, thank you my darling.

With all my love,

Mum