I lost my mom.
In the past four months, I have said these words more times that I can count, in my mind, out loud and to people. I have prepared myself every time I know I have to say or write these words and I have said them.
My mom, I lost her. They have baffled me every time I have had to say them. I lost her. They seem to suggest that I should have kept an eye on her or held her hand, not let her out of my sight, like I do with my three years old. But I did, hold her hand and kept her in my sight even when I had no inkling that I was about to lose her. I am positive, I did. I held her hand and helped her sit in the car, I smiled and waved and I looked at her till she was out of my sight as she left for the hospital with my father. I laughed with her and dressed up to go to a wedding, I wore thick layers of clothes to go to a vacation with her. I packed and unpacked with her as we traveled and returned. I looked on with her as her pride and joy, my son, played. I talked to her deep into the night as we bared our heart and souls and laughed and cried as we always did. I finally even learnt to make her tea, just the way she liked it. I did all this in the last fifteen days of her life. How is it possible that I lost her.
How is it possible? That she is gone. We did these things like we always did, like we will always have this time. Like we will always make these plans and meet every couple of months, to live our lives together, to share our time with Ayaan. Like we will always have each other, to fight and make up, to laugh hysterically, to share books and family gossip. Like I will always have her help me bring up my little boy.
I didn't know. We didn't know. Even as I cooked her meal that my dad carried to the hospital so that she could eat something she liked, I didn't know it was her last. I didn't know that it was my last, for my mom. As I waved her bye I had thought I will see her the next day and she would be home the day after.
How am I supposed to believe that she is lost to me? That she will no longer fill my days with her laughter, with her enthusiasm, with her concern, with her conversations. That she will not be calling me and that I do not have to plan my days around phone calls to her. That every time I travel, see a new place, do a new thing or eat at a new restaurant; I will have to remind myself that she will not be asking me for a review and to give her a verdict whether she should consider doing it too or not. That the one person who was always interested in my life, no matter what, is just not there anymore.
Its difficult, every time I say it, to believe that I lost her. That she is lost to me. I am not sure how much longer it will take for me to believe that this is true. That she is gone and I am the one who is lost.