It was around 1 o' clock in the afternoon on Sunday 31st May 2015. Mom
was lying on her bed. My sister Mary, niece Reni, Ambily and I were sitting
around. Mom’s eyes were closed and her breathing was strained. Although we had
seen similar condition few months ago when she was in the hospital, it still
did not feel right and a cloud of foreboding enveloped me. I wanted her to open her eyes, look at me and
smile. I called out “Mother” (in the recent past I had started calling her mother
and she used to laugh at this) hoping she would respond as she always did. I
did not know what to do. I felt helpless in not knowing how I could help my
mom. The only thing I could do was to pray.
I took the
hymn book. The song that came to my mind
was “Nearer my God to Thee.” I had my hand on her shoulders gently caressing as
I started to sing. I finished the first stanza and was at the refrain “Nearer
my God to thee, Nearer to Thee”. Suddenly mom opened her eyes wide and took a
deep breath. And that was her last breath.
The song
stopped in my throat. Ambily and Reni gave out a gasp. The only thing to be
done now was to close those eyelids and kiss her still warm body that would
fast turn cold.
As Mary,
Reni and Ambily were cleaning the lifeless body and clearing it of all the
tubes and wires that were supporting her life, I sat stupefied on the
chair. I couldn’t help thinking about that
iron lady who though short in stature, stood tall in her spirits, conviction
and confidence.
She was born
in 1917, two years short of a century ago. In a time when girls were not
allowed to step out of the house, she was lucky to have had a father who sent
her to a reputed residential school in Kerala called “Nicholson”. After her
higher secondary she went for further studies to a far way land (in those days)
Madras at Women’s Christian College (WCC).
After
completing her studies she joined the Indian Postal Department as a Post
Mistress and later she left this position to take up teaching. A few years
later she resigned her job to give more attention to her children although the
family income was meagre with the focus her husband had on spreading the word
of God.
She took the
complete load of running the household allowing her children to focus on their
studies. Those were the days when there was no cooking gas, no refrigerator, no
washing machine or no mixers. This meant that food had to be freshly cooked,
loads of clothes hand washed, all the grinding needed for cooking to be on the
grinding stones every day; not to forget the cows in the stable and the hens
who also needed attention. It is this sacrifice that has helped all of us
children to where we are.
She was a
strong personality with exceptional administrative skills. She was a support
and guide not just for her children but to many in the local community and
church in which she was very active till very late into her life.
She enjoyed
a healthy repartee laced with humour, especially those rhymed, with no malice
intended. She could beat any smart alecs in a verbal rally with her
quick-wittedness. Once one of her students in the Sunday School she taught
wanted to prove his smartness.
“Teacher,
whom did Cain marry?”
As most of
you would know Cain was the son of Adam
as per the Bible and there is no reference about any woman in the story of Adam
and Eve other than Eve.
Pat came the
reply
“Son don’t
worry about somebody else’s wife. Read the scripture and learn about life”
Even in her
fading years when her memory started to fail her logical mind was still
intact. Once when somebody came to visit
her she could not recollect who it was. When he kept on asking her whether she
knew who he was he replied with a smile
“If you
don’t know who you are, high time you consult a doctor”
In the last
few months she was getting to be younger in her mind. She wanted to dress up
and even have some make-up. As the days went by she was turning to be a little baby who wanted to be hugged and
even preferred to be allowed sit on lap. She was so lucky to have Ambily
looking after her 24 X 7. For my mother, she was a great companion, a
well-qualified nurse, a daughter, a mother and a sister all rolled into one.
The luckiest thing that happened for mom in the last one year was having Ambily around.
She was also
lucky that all her five children who are scattered around the world could spent
time with her in the last one year with the eldest and the youngest spending
lots of time. This is the only thing that any parent would want and any child
could give in the twilight years. Unfortunately this unfettered togetherness is
turning to be a luxury in the new world of abundance.
In the last
one year when she was failing in her health I was lucky that my work brought me
to Delhi, where she stayed with my sister, every week. Every day when I left
for office I would go to look her up and to give her a kiss. I learned to
cherish the moment; but there was a nagging thought deep in my heart, “how long”.
Now the
death has come and taken her away. What is left; some memories. As the days go
by we try to internalise this vacuum, this feeling of emptiness, ruminating on
the old and not so old memories; sometimes happy about those wonderful moments
and sometimes with regret about those wasted moments and stupid fights.
No man is an
Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the
maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if
a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne
were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee: John Donne. (this was the original spelling he used in 1624)
