Ma





Today as I looked at my phone, your eyes smiled back at me. You see, I passed your house today and I was tired and the traffic jam just outside your area begged me to stop and visit. I didn’t since you no longer reside there.

 

Today was one of those days when work and household chores piled up and it kept on reminding me of how you managed the house and a job. I tried to picture you as you cooked the food, dried and folded our clothes, made sure our homework was done. And the minute the lights were out, how your aches and pains became real as you moaned in your sleep, a trait which has passed on to me as well.

 

As I lay on my bed trying to still my mind, I saw your photo again smiling at me. I searched for the original photo and zoomed into those eyes. As you held my gaze, the world stood still. All the memories of you leaving me, the enormity of the fact that I will never get to feel you again came rushing to me.

 

I covered your eyes and saw only your lips and they reminded me of all the times you laughed at my antics. You barely had an upper lip, a feature that I proudly share with you. And then I saw your whole face, the wrinkles, the ear, the brow and the greying hair.

 




I felt the tiredness leaving my body, the struggles of the day flowing out of me in the form of tears. Then the realization hit me that I have the remainder of my life to live without you. Today was just one small battle.

 

A sinking feeling overcomes me that no matter how long I stare at you, you will not talk back. And that in order to see you, I have to touch a glass screen. Your photo reminds me of the struggles you went through during the last stages.

 

I have discovered and achieved so much since you have gone- my love for writing and reading, my post-graduation, your grandson’s antics which amaze me every day. All of which you didn’t get to experience. It keeps me wondering, will my son feel the same. Will I be there for all his important moments?

 

I guess a picture does keep you awake. After all it’s not just a memory of an event but it’s a lifetime of memories hidden in the fine lines of a face.

 


Image Source: flickr.com


 

 


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