cap-ability

Despite how melancholy I've been at NWSA this year, I managed to take our annual "Madras Madcap" photos with dear SR. 

  

We were just acquaintances when we started, but we're super close now.

(Her mother had been ailing for years and we both lost our mothers within weeks of each other--I didn't expect us to twin in this.)

Here we are through the years!

what I'm actually here for

Haven't ventured outside of the hotel+convention center yet...

But I managed to deliver my paper "Tell Me Where It Hurts: Dis-ease, (Dis)Embodiment, and the Body Politic in Jhumpa Lahiri's Roman Stories" well to a packed room (and got an offer to have it anthologized after Q&A) so that part was good.

Pic: Nevermind what's going on with my hair.
 

here, I guess

This is the only travel I'd anticipated and planned for this semester--my annual trip to the NWSA. All the other trips happened because of tragedy or unexpected success. Anyway.

Big A was working last night, and my direct flight to Puerto Rico from Detroit took off early, so I walked to the airport shuttle (Lansing to Detroit) at 4 am with my luggage (just a backpack, no worries).

Pic: "Home" for the next three nights... I guess that Paris hotel room spoiled me, because I texted "where is the hammock?" to the family chat.

kindness continues

as do I

perhaps that how I continue.

When I checked in with my sister, we realized that both of us have been struggling with physical manifestations of our grief...

She has migraines

I have nausea every day

Pic: I opened my office door to another kind card today.
 

umm..

Well, this was unexpected...

Not if you'd been paying attention to the weather forecast, of course...

But I've been in my own head a lot lately.

Deadlines and projects seem to be multiplying, so I sat and wrote them all down to figure out how I'm going to get them all done.

one at a time, naturally...

Pic: I can't deny how beautiful the backyard looks.

distraction central

Max, Big A, and Huck are all wrestling at my feet and it makes it very difficult to get grading done... 

an echo without a wall

here, speak  to  Amma

my sister offers, holding 

out  the hair dryer to me

I gently receive the device

lift aside the strands of hair

caught in its grill, delicately

I set the roaring  machine

to my ear  where it  begins 

to angrily melt my earrings

at first I can't hear my mother

--speak a little louder--I beg

even as I feel bad for asking

as  she  sounds so, so  tired 

and  now she's  complaining

about how she forgot to bring 

any money with her

don't you remember this moment?

we are kneeling

at a cliff's edge

      in prayer 

      or defeat

rocks enthroned

trees congregate

      benumbed

      or tranquil

there you are born

dropping headfirst

      like a diver

      into life

your body, landscape

your cries a chorus

      all longing

      and love

__________

Pic: E.M.'s post-dinner pic of Max and Huck.

I will always be writing this poem

it may take years and years 
to tell me the world

but I am stubborn 

I am shocked in sections

to realize my mother 

open as a shadow 

in the middle of this life

I find myself lying

flat, face down 

following how my anger

gets lost late at night  

in family elegy

remembering two months

fractured from the hard symmetry of days

from the moment I open my eyes

 aware of every treachery of light

of going away, of disappearing

on rivers of  might  have been 

and what can never be again 

I beg mercy of shadows 

who, too, flee 

from me 

_____

Pic: A full moon tonight.

prospectus

the yellow bruise of the morning 

is where I list wonders aloud

& I can't pick myself up

from bending silences

and lock on air

I dare any unknown to find me 

I draw maps to where I am

ghosts already know me

falling through the sky 

all breath only sighs

Pic: Max and Huck are surprised in the guest room.

this is not nothing

end 

endings

I've been obsessing over these words and their various forms so much that they've begun to look unreal...

end

ends

what if they didn't exist 

Pic: Sunset over Saginaw St.

the saving of things

Every day, all day long, I find myself saving little things to relay on our chats--funny things, important things, life hacks, memories, things the kids did, what happened to me, what I cooked, questions about things that happened long ago, language/culture/religion queries...

and then the realization that she probably already knows all these things now... 

lookez-vous*

Happy to be greeted by this crepuscular sunshine on my way home.

And happy to be back home, reunited with Big A, Max, and Huckie... and At and Nu on the phone.

Now to check on the backlog of work.

*I saw this bit of franglais on a billboard and it made me chuckle. I couldn't wait to use it myself... take that, Duolingo.

all treats

Our team won SILVER at the iGEM !! (We won bronze last year, so we're goin' up, up, up!) 

I took off by myself for the first time this week, and visited St. Michel, St. Germain, La Sorbonne (where E.M and I presented a paper virtually earlier this year), and meandered all over the left bank.

Then I saw an old friend on the Paris metro and took a picture with him.

I can't wait to be back with family tomorrow. It has been so difficult this week. I guess I've been here too long--at dinner today, the waiter said he was sure he'd met me before, making people at my table laugh.

lightness

 J is a francophile, so while we were texting about something else, I mentioned being in Paris and she suggested I light a candle for my mom. 

I could kick myself for not thinking of it myself. I wish I had done it at Notre Dame where we visited on Monday. I've talked before about how much she loved when I translated Anatole France's short story "Le Jongleur de Notre Dame" from my high school french textbook for her.

But of course, the story doesn't take place at the cathedral, it takes place at a some abbey in rural France, so I went to the church down the street to light a candle. And then later we happened to head to Montmartre for dinner and climbed up to the Basilica of Sacré-Coeur, where I got to light another candle for my mom. 

I feel all lit up myself and the most present I've felt on this trip. Thanks for the idea, J <3.

Pic: View from the steps of the basilica. 

excess ugh

 I liked this picture I took of the Chateau of Versailles best...

but I realized I didn't have any pictures of myself on this trip

so I took a picture in the Hall of Mirrors 

where the Treaty of Versailles was signed in 1919

(plus that would sit better with my commie family, anyway)

competing and playing

The actual competition was today...

Advisors got to sit in the judging room silently while the team presented and answered questions. 

(Notes: One judge seemed intent on pressing for industry prospects while our students were altruistically focussed on conservation efforts. Our proposal emphasized our local expertise, and they wanted to hear more about global application--something to remember for next time.)

We took off to see come iconic sights in the evening. I've done "le tour" before, so I elected to sit at a cafe with my book and a pot of peppermint tea. 
 

And off we go...

Early registration and set up and then a LOT of walking today.

Here a quiet moment I carved out for myself at the Tuileries.  

I got a response to the letter I wrote Air France about the kind young woman in Bangalore ("kindness with your mother's name," as Suzanne termed it). The response too was thoughtful and sympathetic: "Acts of compassion and empathy, such as the one you described, are at the heart of our service, and it’s wonderful to know that Lakshmi’s support made a difference for you." I know it's corporate pro forma, but it would be so wonderful if the world ran like that.

let's goooo

This trip came together so quickly, and I guess I was in denial about leaving for a while... But I'm chaperoning the college iGEM team for the next week.

When we checked in at the hotel, I opened my room to discover it has a hammock...

I think I can do this.

It has been a day of extra kindnesses. The hotel desk clerk upgraded me to a suite, and the patisserie snuck a ton of extra treats into the box I ordered.

how comedians are born

Instagram has been feeding me reels of standup comedian Gianmarco Soresi, whom I find funny. I've been watching the whole reel, which means the algorithm has been sending me more including his TV and podcast appearances, and attendance at political rallies including Zohran Mamdani's. 

The other day, I was idly telling Big A about GS and how he seemed to be funny AND smart. 

"Oh! said Big A."Funny AND smart!" It's the people who are funny and smart who didn't get into medical school who become comedians." 

It made no sense at all, but it was kind of funny. 

I wrote about her a lot

...and it felt nice to share the quirky things she used to via the poems.

I wondered if it would make me sad, but it made me happy to see other people smiling and enjoying her quirks too. 

A reading from the Sing Anthology as part of the Chippewa Valley Writing Festival. 

birthday bright

Big A's birthday... an outing with arcade games by request.

Sometimes, this birthday baby really is a big baby.

custom

Nu's birthday Eve

Big A's birthday Eve

we've been using the same decorations 

and the same gift bags for years now.

tradition/sustainability/parsimony

The puppies like to check my work.

not a solution

I've been breaking down about every tiny thing and everywhere, so Big A suggested I should apply to take the rest of the semester off work. 

I don't think that's a possibility...

1) H.R. won't go for it--I've seen colleagues work through bereavement, having cancer treatment, babies etc.

2) The classroom is the place where I feel most "normal" right now.

3) I can imagine what I'll be thinking about with all that "extra" time? OMG.

nice day for...*

Today was a nice day for an "Alternative Break." I'd always promised myself that I'd go on these service breaks with a group from the college when I was an empty nester.

It felt very therapeutic to throw myself into using my body to lug things to fill two forty-foot dumpsters for the Habitat for Humanity ReStore. I thought a lot of the stuff that went to the landfill today could be reused, but the people at the store had already had it for a while and needed to make room. They know what's best for them, so I just did what I was asked to do.

At lunch, one of the students referred to my recent India trip and asked how I was doing. I hadn't mentioned anything to this group, so I asked how they knew. Turns out they know a student in one of my classes. I wonder if I've been a little "off" for that student to mention it to other people.

Also, I met a volunteer at the store who had been in the Peace Corps in the 1960s (and she's still volunteering!). She'd served in India so we talked a while about all the ways in which things have changed (not for the better). She said she'd just read and loved the new Kiran Desai The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny, which I'd planned to read, because I loved Desai's last novel (was it really nearly 20 years ago?). So I came home and started on that right away.

Pic: A brilliant sky and the practical backlot at the Habitat gig today.

*I can't hear "nice day for..." without Billy Idol snarling "White Wedding" in my head every time!

continuing difficult

Diane Keaton's death this weekend. Her dates (1946-2025) are exactly Amma's. I won't watch The Family Stone this Christmas. 

Dropping Nu off at their dorm this morning. It was so easy to get used to Nu's energy around the house again. Nu and I carried their new dorm fridge to their room. And... I offered to clean their room/hire someone to clean their room. Nope. Well, I offered anyway.

For some reason all the roadkill got to me today. All these deer and raccoons just randomly mowed down. I hit a deer three years ago, so I know it's sudden and unavoidable and no one is going around trying to get these creatures. But seeing so many dead, their insides emptied out, was more than I could handle today.

I wish I hadn't read The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida, in which the afterlife is full of demons and hungry malicious ghosts. The afterlife should be a peaceful reunification with the universe.

the big ones

"If you kept the small rules, you could break the big ones." 1984 George Orwell

we're united in the day and earth

is dreaming

do whatever it is you want to do 

be quick 

even if your train of thought goes

off track

you're just supposed to know how

"stay calm"

seasons fade in Sunday's sunlight 

so what

even our shifting stars and stories

are no use

I understand what you hold on for 

--dear life

but the question is what we do 

what do we do

when so many of us haven't

died yet

____________

Pic: Ducks making ripples on The Red Cedar.

brand new adult

Not a clear photo, but in the background Nu is laughing their head off and At is grinning. It reminds me of a birthday dinner filled with hi-jinks, ridiculous rules (no kissing! three kinds of potatoes for the table!), and unlooked for consequences (silly dances and jalapeno drinks and Max barfing possibly in response to Nu's bad flute-playing).

I'm glad I was able to make space to make joy before Nu headed out with friends for the rest of the evening. 

On their very first day on earth, the pediatric nurse pronounced Nu "an old soul." 

 They're now a full-fledged adult.

It still seems wild.

changing gears

It's Nu's birthday tomorrow. Nu's 18th birthday! And I woke up this morning determined to change gears. 

Actually, I woke up late this morning, having slept through my alarm for the first time in decades. Still I used the the 28 minutes I had to shower and get ready, used the hour commute to mentally prep myself, and was on time for my 8 am meeting. 

And then when I casually checked my email near the end of the meeting, I saw there was a gift card for Nu from my parents and I could barely keep it together. I wonder how far into the future my mom has arranged things...

Later, someone asked me if I had allergies. Yes, I'm allergic to sorrow.

But... Nu is home for the weekend! We've already had one requested dinner (sushi), cut one cake (pumpkin cheesecake), and done the birthday dec. 

I can't believe it has been 18 years since Big A and I walked hand-in-hand down 1st Ave to the NYU hospital where he worked as a resident, only this time it was for me to get admitted so I could get induced and we could finally meet Nu. (Like At, who was spending that night with Cousin P, Nu was about ten days over the estimated delivery date too).

Pic: Max and Huck are delirious with happiness that Nu's here. I am too.

wild, sad, and serious

I thought I'd come to the idea that walking would help me dull my pain on my own... I realize now it may have come from Cheryl Strayed's Wild, which I devoured in a single afternoon one summer. Hiking the Pacific Crest Trail is her formula for dealing with mother-loss and grief.

I should be sadder. I would be if I didn't keep forgetting that it really happened. Every time I remember, it still feels unreal. It was mom's "Boss Day" yesterday, and I could barely get through it. It felt real again and again because I couldn't call her.

I'm so relieved that there is some semblance of a ceasefire in Gaza (Doctors Without Borders reported they're still hearing bombing). Amidst the hope for healing, I keep thinking about the the nearly 60,000 children who have lost parents and how it must feel to experience that loss so violently and so young.

At stopped by--it was SLE's birthday and At needed her mom. I suggested we celebrate SLE and we talked so much about SLE we both had a good cry... and then we went to the temple with an offering of fruit, flowers, and silks just for something formal to do. At had been disinvited to the funeral by SLE's family, so I keep suggesting At and her friends need to do something to honor SLE in a way she would have enjoyed. (I know so many rites now since Amma's funeral.)

Pic: Why so serious, sweet Max? (Because Dad made him wear his glasses.)

better not be kidding

Beckett says, "the creation of the world 

did not take place once and for all time 

but takes place every day."

O please tell me the world 

O pause the day

I must mean something too, I think

on days I telescope into

myself or memory 

coming into the wounds through 

which the words become 

somewhere are places bright and

in my head, a graveyard bigger

than the city it lives in

see, I really mean no harm

I say, climbing... down 

________

Pic: A few miles down the Bright Angel Trail; I am (and my shadow is) about three feet from the edge--and somehow, that's ok; any closer, and I'd freak out. We're back, BTW. I'm just still thinking about it.

unmapped

now that the world is descent 

the canyon floor 

joins me there as it happens

my favorite part of the future 

when waking is

an adventure, pulsing like stars

eager as her birth month of May

my vigil climbs

this mystery of mom missing

hymning words I can neither 

say nor sing, loving 

now my only way of knowing 

_________________

Pic: Holding on to a tree for dear life, the south rim of the Grand Canyon behind me. We hiked the entire South rim with only one tiny freakout when a 6000 ft drop lay two feet too close in front of me. I realized the trail was too narrow in parts (for me, anyway), so I opted to hike on the road and join back when the trail broadened again. 

a poem and an unrelated pic

JG sent this sweet, sad poem she wrote for me:

Tending
You were in my dream last night,
Sister of my heart.
I could not touch
your beautiful sadness,
could not carry
the weight of
your mother’s absence--
heavier than a suitcase of saris--
could only witness
the pain that seared you,
and see her light
within you.
_______________________
 Pic: Big A and me at the lip of the Bright Angel Trail, with The Grand Canyon behind us. My arm behind Big A is not holding him, it's holding the railing. We went on to descend about 3.5 miles in. It took us an hour and half on the way down and roughly twice that to climb back up. There were points along the way when I'd look up the trail and people seemed so far up, it felt like I'd never make it up there... but eventually I would pass there too...

one month in

Somehow... and I want to say "suddenly" it has been a month since I got that call from my sister: "Akka, Amma passed away this morning."

There have been lifetimes compressed into this month, journeys that would usually be planned for months. Sadness and (what feels like) fibromyalgia pain and constant nausea won't leave me...

And yet, every morning when I wake up, I walk myself through a reminder that this thing happened... it's a doorway I will have to enter and exit all day. 

I keep saving things to tell her on our daily chats/calls... I hear the quirky things she says in my head all the time... and honestly, I still feel very loved by my mom.

Pic: I added mom's mangalsutras to my own wedding necklace. I rarely wear mine; you can tell mom wore hers every second of her fifty-six years of marriage. (Usually, the Telugu wedding necklace has two of the disc-shaped lockets--one from the bride's parents and one from the groom's. In my mom's case while her parents gave her the typical Telugu pottu, my dad's family gave her the M-shaped Tamil thali. Although they too are Telugu, the Wandawasis have a tradition of wearing the Tamil-style thali to honor the Tamil family who fostered the heir who had been smuggled out of the Wandawasi fort when it was besieged by the British.)

Normal--Medium--Max

I've promised myself that I'll be more normal after midterm break. In the meantime, every one is just so kind. I worry that I'm failing to thank people in time and they'll think I'm taking them for granted... but also I know my people and they are all about extending grace. Friends who are close by continue to hold me up; friends who are far away have started on Round #2 of cards and things...

And I received an unusual and generous gift certificate to a medium from a friend who just had her own first highly successful visit herself. I never even thought of approaching one, but now preparing for my appointment (as yet unbooked) is all I can think of. If I have a worry, it's that I won't hear from my mom or Scout OR that I will and then I'll be addicted.

Pic: Max (barely visible here) is the best right now. He really wants nothing from me except my presence... not even my attention or awareness.

not alone

a mild day for a grim pilgrimage

the light spread thin as sleep 

over a dream in which

no one has died 

an empty day 

a safe day

in the fold

of the next one

falling unremarked--

a pebble in the current-- 

hoping you will be called 

by your childhood name again 

__________

Pic: Water fowl on the Red Cedar; from my walk yesterday.
 

every crack I see...

The only thing that comforts me on some level is being able to take myself off on long, almost punishing walks... It's a luxury reserved for days when I have the time. Then when I do I always feel a pang of anguish for a dear friend who also enjoys walks but can't right now because of a mysterious health condition. Hearing her describe herself as being "scared" breaks my heart a bit more every time I think of it (every day).

Another friend suffered extensive burns last week in a freakish accident and I can't imagine how traumatic the pain, memories, and recovery will be. Or how challenging it will be to parent and not hug or cuddle.

And all this is just exacerbating my already existing anxiety about how we might not know it, but disaster might be just around the corner. Ugh.

I was superstitious enough to never step on any cracks but now I don't have to care. Like the lyrics in "Nothing Compares to You," "I can do whatever I want." I could step on every crack, if I wanted.

Pic: A giant sack of laundry and all my lovely, loving kids. My human kids kindly descended on me this weekend to wrap me in hugs and cuddles and marathon sessions of the Criterion Channel and Never Have I Ever. 

creep

Things keep creeping up on me...

I thought book club was next week, it was yesterday. 

I thought I was doing a Zoom poetry reading for an event at Agnes Scott College on the 27th of October... nope; it was today. I managed to show up on time Zoom ready (silk blouse on top, tracksuit bottoms) and read ok, I think (at least from the kind comments people shared). 

Our Grand Canyon trip is next week. I don't know if I'm ready for this trip I've waited for all my life.

Pic: A screenshot of the reading from the organizer.

three weeks...

Today felt strange... a committee that usually meets every Friday cancelled a couple of meetings and met for the first time since the day I heard the news about Amma. It made me uneasy and it took me a long time to find my voice. 

And because I was already mourning At's ex when this happened, it feels like grief is escalating. On some level, I fear more is coming my way.

In my body I am silent. I hurt and now I'm constantly nauseous. 

So far, the only place I feel like myself is in the classroom. And student services. (By the end of the weekend, I'll have fulfilled my beginning-of-term obligations as advisor to three of four organizations. Or so I hope.)

here's to the mums

I'm guilty of trying to find signs everywhere right now. The cardinals and the namesake (whom Suzanne poetically called "kindness with your mother's name") are lovely.

Not so lovely that the local indie hardware store sign made me tear up a block before I got to work.

Their sign currently reads: "Mums are here. More in rear." 

For some reason this prosaic rhyme made me think for an instant that all the mums* were in the store and if I didn't see mine right away, I could expect to find her in the back. 

(I didn't grow up American, so grew up saying "mum" not "mom.")

Pic: I took this as an excuse to treat myself to some huge mums for the front porch. 

thunderbolts and lightning

J wrote in the comments that when she lost her mom, she felt outraged that the rest of the world continued on... that she was surprised the mail continued to be delivered. I feel that.

This thing feels like being struck by lightning repeatedly. There was a lightning strike in the neighborhood in the afternoon yesterday and it gave L a nosebleed, woke A from his post call nap, and did something to our circuit breakers.

Big A texted to say we didn't have water, and I was so blasé about it... like quite unconcerned. It's as if I'm already in a private apocalypse of my own, so of course I expect that things like water and electricity are going to fail...

The emergency plumber came out late last night and fixed it in under half an hour. 

Pic: L's photo of the strike next door.

Apa Shakunam

"Inauspicious." 

The day I took my mom to the airport, I wrote about finding a four-leafed clover to pack for good luck. I didn't write about how my mom promptly lost it. I found an older one I had squirreled away for her to take. 

But the more I think about it, the more it feels like that was a foreshadowing of her hospital visit and everything else to come. 

I wonder what else I missed.

the next time I see you

I guess I'm at that stage where I'm telling random people that my mom died.  As I was checking in my luggage at the airport, the desk attendant asked why my suitcase was so heavy and I told her it had my mom's saris. Then I started sobbing. And then to make it less awkward, I explained that my mom had passed away. Super awkward. This young person, who couldn't have been more than 25, touched my arm and said gently: "It might seem like she's not here anymore, but she's always with you. So I helpfully cried harder.

I saw the same attendant at the gate too, and when she came up to me, I bashfully said something like--hi, look I'm not crying anymore. And she said "Ma'am, the next time I see you, you'll be strong and happy." I was so moved by her goodwill, I asked for her name, thinking I would write a note commending her kindness. 

It was Lakshmi. Mom's name. 

________

Pic: My mom's favorite sibling, her only brother, gave me this life-size blonde, blue-eyed doll who shut her eyes when you laid her down when I was a baby. I didn't play with her much, but "Sofia" became quite famous amongst my friends... for instance, the kid who's in the first photo with me wanted to take a photo with Sofia. My dad thought it would be hilarious to use my sister in the next picture as a switcheroo.

Another one from mom's archive.

I guess she doesn't live here anymore

The morning's Hindu ceremony for this 16th day was very serious. I was terrified of messing up something small like tying a knot wrong in the darba grass or making an offering in the wrong cardinal direction and endangering my mom's welfare in the next realm. So I extra loved the part when my mom was entrusted to her mom and grandmother for the journey, with the priest calling out their formal names and clan names.

This afternoon was the celebration of her life. It was a party mom would have loved, except for the fact that she very certainly wasn't there. If she doesn't live here anymore, I wonder where she is. And also, although I was the one who came up with the idea of "celebrating her life" I ended up being a very wet blanket--the kind who cries all the time.

It was the first time I was seeing people outside of family, and every time someone said something kind or I spied a sweet picture of her face on the slideshow, I was a puddle. At one point I was clutching neighbors I hadn't seen decades and sobbing into their shoulder. (They meant to visit dad on Wednesday, but had hurried down to say goodbye to me as I leave at the end of the day and they didn't want to miss me. So although their words were fairly standard--"we all lost a good friend"-- it seemed so fucking poignant in the moment.)

My mom's cousin with whom she had a lot of adventures made me laugh when she said an old (male) colleague of my sister's was a "rugged beauty." We got a lot of mileage out of that for the rest of the afternoon. Another cousin was addressed by a completely different--and made up--name by the security guard, and we all used that name for her for the rest of the afternoon as well. I guess, we all needed to regress/recoup a bit. 

Pic: A picture of the celebration a friend shared with me.
 

It's a serious business

Chelli and I spent hours poring over the many options we could go with as Amma had a serious sweet tooth and we went with a little bit of everything. It's a serious business gathering all of Amma's favorite treats.

We finalized the slide show, signed off on the caterer menus for tomorrow, okayed the centerpieces from the florist, and found the perfect photos for the seven small tables. Mom would love this party. The person who made tiny cakes for tomorrow started crying when she delivered them this evening because she said she was looking forward to making mom's 80th birthday cake and instead she was "baking for this." 

Pic: This looks like an ad for globalization what with the homemade treats up front and everything from Coca Cola to CheezIts and fusion snacks at the tail end of the table.   
 

siblings

So grateful for my sister who is so amazing at caregiving. When not with me, our parents have been with her for at least the last 15 years.

Amma has four siblings, and although she'd always say she loved her only brother the most, she's super close to her sisters. It has been such a relief to be held by my aunts, to know I'll fall asleep next to a protective and comforting aunt tonight. 

She was telling me that she and Amma had been arguing about a T.V. series called The Promise. They couldn't seem to agree on whether the lead actor was handsome or not, if he was tall or not, if someone was sus or not, they couldn't even agree on the basic plot line... "I kept rewatching episodes because I couldn't remember anything she mentioned," my aunt said. It turned out that my mom had been watching the Turkish series called The Promise and my aunt had been watching a Korean series that had the same title (but was a completely different show). Ha.

Pic: I vaguely remember being posed at the end of a school day with my sister in those giant planters as *growing kids* by my uncle, who doted on us. (Also, apropos of nothing, at least three of my teachers back then were flirting with him.) I have no idea why our catholic school uniforms are so grimy--my sister may even have been in a fight? She must still be in kindergarten, because their uniforms were sleeveless and you got sleeves only when you got to first grade. It was a cute 'fit: cement green with contrast binding in a green-and-white check... I'd wear that mod-looking frock now, given a chance. And I'd happily go back to that childhood.

found

Of course my sister and I started crying even as we walked towards each other and collapsed into each other when she picked me up at the bus stop.*

When we got home, my dad seemed so much smaller inside my hug and also grizzlier--in the traditional way, he won't shave until Sunday's ceremony.  He wouldn't let my hand go for hours. 

He wants me to take all my mom's things as some jewelry like her bangles, rings, anklets will fit only me. Ditto her shoes. Her clothes are not my size, but he kept telling me the sweaters and blazers would look nice at work (umm, no). I can see I'm going to return with so many of her saris. 

The true treasures are all the photo albums. She was so obsessed with At, photographing nearly every moment of At's infancy with whatever blurry camera she had back in 1999.

Pic: I found this 56-year-old photo of my parents from when they were just married. I'm noticing the slight lean away in their heads. In my dad's case, it could be because of the way his body aligns because of his polio... my mom is probably feeling shy? In any case, this photo makes me smile because dad always joked about how there was so much symmetry between his tie and my mom's braid.

*[My flight got into Bangalore at 3:20 AM, and I didn't want Chelli to make the 90-minute trip to the airport so late at night, so I refused to tell her when my flight got in. I stayed inside the airport until it was no longer dark and then took the bus home (it seemed safer than a taxi--there are always such horrendous stories of violence against women in Bangalore).]

goodbye and all that

I apologized to A when he dropped me off at the airport, because I feel I've said the same three or four things a hundred different ways this past week and he said so what, he has comforted me in the same three or four different ways too... fair enough.

My plane's here, and kinda don't want to leave the airport because going will make everything real. I'm crying discreetly and I think it might help if I talk to someone, but also feel like I might descend into full-on weeping if hear a kind voice.

Pic: The photo i took to say goodbye to the fam on chat. 

On my way to work today, I heard Robert Redford died

... and it made me smile 

He had been one of my mom's celebrity crushes and what if there was some party for the newly dead where she might finally meet him? I don't know how many times we watched Redford and Fonda in the film adaptation of Neil Simon's Barefoot in the Park...

I leave tomorrow for Bangalore, and I guess I have mortality on the brain, because I've been saying earnest goodbyes to everyone letting them know how much they mean to me... TBF, it is a long journey and lots of things could go wrong... and I've thought of at least 500 of them.

Pic: I miss her everywhere, even on FB, where she was sometimes quite prolific on my page.

travel countdown math

I've booked my tickets for Bangalore...

I leave on Wednesday and am back early on Tuesday, or 

4         days of travel 

3         days I'll have in Bangalore 

2         nights I'll spend in Bangalore 

1         teaching day I'll miss 

0         pleasure 

still present

I'm still using the present tense when I talk about mom a lot of the time, and I guess that's ok. Every time I receive a condolence message, I go through a moment where I'm like--LOL, no! my mom's not dead... before I realize no, that message really is for me. 

They say a loved one's spirit is near when a cardinal appears... I've been woken up by a cardinal almost every day since Amma died...

Could it be because when A is at work, I've been sleeping downstairs with Max and Huck?