Mum Knows Best

Today is my mother's birthday. I am sitting at work as I type this, with the deep hope that tears don't spill over and plop on my keyboard, and that colleagues don't turn to me with a look of questioning concern.

I miss my Mum. I only tell one person this repeatedly, and that's my better half. I first left home at 19, and now almost ten years later, I miss her more than ever before. There were random holidays when my folks would come down to India but they had to share their time and love with everyone, and in that process I often took out my frustrations on her. I then got a second chance to spend almost a year with them. I did. But I screwed up there as well. So many other issues in our lives came in the way - to a point where she must have wondered if I am really her daughter or did someone switch babies on her.

This is lost time that I will never get back. She was always a mum to me. Dad was the best buddy. I know for many women the definition of "Mother" is "best friend", but not so in my case. My Amma threw her heart and soul into her career all through our youth - at times I have even accused her of being selfish. Today, two post graduations later and often taking the wayward path for most of my life, she is the one I call (shamelessly) for money - the same money she slogged for all our lives. Of course she ensured that we were never neglected - Dad took charge at home, and by default became our best buddy, because he put in time with us. (I can't stress more strongly how much the impression of time stays with a child - this hit me more so when a childhood friend, recently married, told me she'd consider taking a job she disliked for more money just so she could give her (yet-to-be-born) children "everything". A seemingly noble gesture I told her, to everyone but the child.)

I can't speak for my brother, but I know that the few times Mum actually tried to forge a bond with us I pushed her away, rebelled. She wouldn't do any of the "fun" stuff (most of which involved spending money we didn't have) and I always felt she had a soft spot for my brother (which I suppose he could accuse me of when it came to Dad).

But my Mum always surprised me during the most unexpected moments by standing by my side when it really counted. The moments I thought only Dad would. I never realised just how much she and I could have connected had I given her the chance - maybe how much different my life would have been. I don't have any regrets about what I've done with my life, but I know that if I had kept her in the loop I could have hurt a lot less people in the process. At this juncture, I KNOW these days are by far the most difficult I have experienced and I want everyone to know just how grateful I am to have her by my side. I also want her to know, but declarations of love have always been mocked in our family - actions always spoke louder. Of course she is still an ocean away but she calls every week now to check on me - and that means a lot to me. Another strong influence have been both my grandmothers. I strongly believe God was delegating His tasks to them - because though He can do anything and everything, He can't do it all NOW.

As much as I love the men in my life, they all come second to the women who live strongly in my heart, in the various spheres of my life. Nothing can be more difficult for them than to have to choose between their child's well being and their spouse's bruised emotions. At some point in our lives we have/will disappoint our parents. It's only a matter of when. There are various levels of expectations - my dad's was that we win the Nobel Prize :O)

Being the good child is hard when both the parent and child have their own chosen paths. My folks have overlooked all my disappointments quite easily when compared to most people I know. It is even harder to rebuild that bond with all the shattered pieces. However, I shall not lose hope. I shall persevere. Because one day (God willing) I shall be in their shoes. And as far as I know, no one handles disappontment as badly as I do :O)