They've gone for a walk, my 60-year old father and my 21-month old daughter. I watched them from the window as my dad pushed her SUV stroller over the bumpy front lawn to the quiet street. Slowly, gingerly, he guided the buggy over the grass and when they reached the asphalt he turned left, up the hill. Brave man. My baby girl turned her head toward the house but didn't see me peeking through the blinds. Why was I peeking as though not wanting to be caught watching this moment unfold? It just seemed appropriate to be separate, give them their space.
Their bond is beautiful. It's based on many mutual loves: music, dancing, afternoon tea (the cookies that go with, really), the garden and all the critters therein, and of course, my mom. Now with "Nani gone" as my daughter solemnly states, the two are redefining their relationship. What does it mean to hang out just the two of them, without the watchful and doting eye of Nani? And, also significant, how will diaper changes be managed? :)
But today's walk is hopefully the first of many, and how can an afternoon go by without tea and cookies? The garden needs tending for new life is already upon us. And there's no better way to feel Nani's spirit than through the music she loved.
I had asked my mom less than a week before she passed, what was she thankful for...and she summed it all up with a smile and one word, "life."
It's a different life now but it's life nonetheless, and it's still worth being thankful for.
Taslim, I had no idea you were such a beautiful writer. This made me cry it was so touching.
ReplyDeleteYou have an amazing gift.
Maybe I'm "turning Japanese". Knowingly I read your posts from most recent to oldest. I enjoyed every post, taking mental note of your suggestions, eager to read the next. It was after reading this post which really made me pause in silence. I found it hard to swallow and your beautiful words became a blur ... that is until I blinked and the tears rolled out of my eyes. ~superbly poignant~
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