On Loss

We recently lost a dear friend. He was kind and gently and loving. He spoke with care and had an uncanny way of looking straight into your heart before giving you a quick reassuring hug. He kept a clan of University friends connected to each other - he was the golden thread in the fabric of their friendship. He was level-headed, an adventurer, a conversationalist and in my humble opinion, a family man. It is a shock to wake up and realise he is no more. That all we have left are memories.

Shabd met him once. He invited us over to his place for a braai and we had a wonderful evening. Shabd played soccer with him. He followed him around the house and snuggled up to him later in the evening. Shabd will grow up to be a man one day, and i'm sure the memory of that day with Chacha Vinesh will fade into the mist of life experiences.

And i find myself once again wishing my son could meet those that have passed on. Those beautiful souls who illuminated the world while they walked it, like gentle giants caring for humanity. I know not the tortures of their souls, only the joys of their existence in my world and the gaping hole they left behind. And my heart aches.

I wonder what i as a mother can do to ensure my son grows up to be that kind of light. The kind of man that is a "maha atma" - a great soul. The kind of man that leaves a legacy behind. The kind of man that can look into your heart, feel your pain and sorrows and joys and let you know it's going to be all right, just with the squeeze of their hand on your shoulder or in the way they say "how are you?".

I would love for my son to learn these things from seeing it being lived, but i cannot bring back those that have departed this earthly plane hence i will grudgingly settle with telling him stories of great men I've known and their great deeds.

Their light remains in our words and deed and memories and stories...Akash will keep the memory of his friend alive by telling Shabd stories of chacha Vinesh.

Storms are Stormy!

Oh My Golly Gosh! Time has just flown by! I meant to write...but it got so busy...How many times have you heard that line before! And the award for the category "Originality in making excuses" does not go to this blogger!

So i'm going to take a very humble very low, forehead to the ground bow and apologise; I'm sorry.

Shabd has grown in leaps and bounds these past few months. When we went to South Africa in August 2014, he was stringing some words together and we guessed what he was saying like "Mummy hungry" which meant "mummy, I'm hungry".

He returned from SA early November, after weeks of being asked to "please use your words Shabd", being very articulate in both stringing words together into a coherent sentence and articulating his words wonderfully. He also returned with quite a heavy South African accent i'm told!

Our time in South Africa was a stormy time and we were blessed to have Dips and Desh and Mummy and Kamal and Trishul and Uresh and Tascia to help us brave the storms. There were many tantrums, by us both, and many hugs and "I'm sorry's", by us both and we both learnt an important lesson - sometimes you have to ride the storm even if your head gets pushed under the water, keep riding the storm"

I'm often haunted by self-reproach where i wish i had behaved differently; been calmer, been more patient, more understanding, more more more. But I've come to accept that I'm human and like my sister said to me during a very stormy day, "You're a wonderful mother Varsh! Who else would do what you've done with the same success. Just look at Shabd, he's an absolute joy! That's because of you!" - sisters are the flowers of life aren't they! And to this blogger, my rainbow in the storm!