Happy Mother’s Day

Amma, back then I hated your sense of time management. I don’t mean with the daily planning. That you did a fabulous job with – yours and ours. It was the big picture.

We all had chores, school, college and work that needed attention. We had many surprises in the department of finance, water, electricity, sewage, and transportation. I agree it made for  lots of on-the-job learning opportunities.

And then there was YOU! With this incessant urge to offer help wherever there was a problem. You not only signed yourself up, you signed us up as well. No prior agreements or contracts, only powerful stories. I understand we could be of very little financial help, given our situation. So you felt compelled to offer help that was physical, emotional or just a fraction of what we owned. 

There were the families in dire need. For when they visited or we went over, you had us pack some grocery, fruit or partially used notebooks, and pencils to share. I vividly remember one visit to a particular 10×10 sq ft home in a slum.  On the path leading to the house, we had to watch every step, and tread very carefully. You amazed me by how matter of factly you made yourself comfortable on the mud floor, exchanged pleasantries, drank tea and offered solutions to their problems.

And then the time when I had to leave home every day earlier than my regular 6:30AM. The hospital where a cousin was undergoing cancer treatment was in the vicinity of my college, so you readily detoured my route. And in the evenings we were off in different directions in search of A+ blood. Those were the days of no internet, no mobile phones and no personal vehicles.

In addition to your two grandchildren and a neighbor’s child, you pleaded with us to add another neighbor’s child. You were very disappointed when we vetoed it, since the spillover would be ours to fill. 

The maid, grandparents, relatives, your friends, our friends and neighbors were all on your list of beneficiaries. And your children? Your assistants at various times or plain students to the subject of emotional support. You taught us the game of Limbo in life. Does not matter how low the rope was, keep your head up and  know that there is much attention needed below.

It was difficult and we complained, but I now understand it made us stronger and resilient. Above all it gave us a sense of empathy for those in need. Today, I hear the pride in your voice, as you sing the praises of your son, who cares for you dearly when you need it most.

Happy Mother’s Day!