DECEMBER SADNESS

 

Every year like clockwork, around mid-December, the melancholia sets in. Along with the winter chill, a cold dread infuses my heart and my mind becomes numb to any warm emotion. For many years I wondered why this happened. Was it S.A.D (Seasonal Affliction Disorder) or was I just sad? And then it hit me like a thunderbolt- the last call I got from Amma was on the 15^th of December 2011- a week before she passed away.

She was so frail, so down but still with her gasping breath she made the effort to dial my number and call me. I listened to her, a thing I never did without interruption or contradiction when she was hale and hearty, and felt a nameless dread come over me.

I knew, in my bones I knew, the end was near. And there was nothing I could do to prevent it from happening. And every year, without fail around the same time, the loss of Amma reaches out and wraps my body mind and soul in its sad embrace…

Amma became very lonely towards the end of her life and that is the imprint she left on my heart. It dawned on me that one can laugh, joke, be surrounded by loved ones but sometimes there are places within us where the darkness remains and no warmth can penetrate. Amma’s life was not cosy, especially towards the end. As her health failed and she was confined to her bedroom watching T.V and connecting to people over the phone, her isolation grew….

I was so lucky to have her as a mother- I realize that now. She was the footprint I wanted to plant my feet in. She was fearless, feisty and always had something to say. Did I inherit that? Maybe in small dribs and drabs but in her I saw a woman who tried so hard- with family, with friends, with the poor, with strangers and yet when she died despite her constant reaching out to people she felt so alone….

So, when I feel that sense of isolation I resist the urge to reach out to others. Amma’s life taught me one thing- that connection to others is important but nothing is more important than the connection to one’s self…I need to nurture that flame within rather than use it only to shed light or share warmth with others.

 Amma had a large heart and yet it was the very same heart that gave up on her. Our heart has to connect with our own body, mind and soul before it links to others. We come first – and that was the diktat Amma never followed- she placed all else before her…

Goodbye Kamala my dearest Amma- I hope this strange sadness I feel every December slowly fades away. It has been eleven years since you last spoke to me. The bond will always remain between us but it is time to let the sadness go. I have to change my role- from being only defined as a mother, wife, daughter and sister or friend- I will first be me, the main protagonist in my own life until the curtains come down.

And that is a lesson I have learned watching your life Amma. Rest in peace- you live on and are loved in the many hearts you touched.

Your loving daughter,

Nimmou