Remember

Oh the things I remember!! We are kids. Pa is angry and shouting at us. At some point it turns into tears and silence and each one of us standing in a corner. She'd always bawl loudly. I'd silently sniffle and sometimes scrape my skin till it gets raw. He'd not react. And so it was when mom died. The call. The cries. My stunned lack of tears. And then it came. Filling every possible moment for a couple of days. And now am afraid to be alone. And yet, I will pack my bags and leave like an adult, though I feel like a child inside. Comforting myself that they all seem to be doing fine. I trust in you, O Lord. Keep me in your shadow.

As I ate figs at work, I remembered she'd like them. There was a time I'd get dried figs from Karachi bakery whenever I visited from Hyderabad. And dates from Nuts n Spices.

It seems like the 2015 floods took a bigger hot than we realized at the time. It was the first time she'd gotten really sick in the recent past. It took away a lot of her things she'd kept under her bed. And her bedside area only kept getting emptier. She had stopped sewing, painting, drawing. Only a few painted cards survived.

I am struggling to remember the times when she wasn't sick. It feels like all my memories are tied to her being in bed. To the last few years of illness.

Whenever we left home, we'd say a prayer followed by a word or two with Mom. We'd then lean over for a hug, kisses and then mamma would hold us, say a short prayer and cross our forehead three times. Take care, she'd say. ... Yesterday, there were no "bye, mamma"s , there was no "it's getting late, what's Christine doing?", And no mamma to kneel around. ... I still find it hard to say she is no longer here on Earth. I am thankful for her life and for everything she did for us. I am glad her suffering is over. I still miss her.

Going through old photos, I just realized I've never met any of her friends. I wonder what happened.