Reflections, Banter and the Honest Truth

 It is over 3 years since my husband has been gone. Every Christmas since then, I have gone to Bangalore to spend the holiday with my siblings and friends. I think the company kept me distracted. I have fun with them and do things that are not really associated with memories that Gerard and I have made together. This year was so different though. I had to stay in Coimbatore and so decided to go for the Christmas dance, with our daughters. It was a really difficult day as I had so many memories of the times we had gone for the dance at the same venue. What made it worse was me just sitting and watching, knowing that I will never have the happiness and fun of dancing with my partner ever again. It really was a Blue Christmas!

While I am one of the most patient people that I know, I am extremely disorganised. This contributes to a bit of a mess around the house at times.  My sister, Maria (who is lovingly called Akka, by all the siblings) last visited me and my girls about six months ago and I think she was a bit shocked at the amount of unnecessary things that were in the house. From planks of wood lying in the loft, to pedestal fans that did not work, jars of ingredients in the kitchen which were probably used only once a year, to pans that were never used, and artificial flowers - something that I absolutely loathe.  I will make an exception for something that is beautiful and classy. Well, my wedding bouquet was artificial white poinsettias, because I love how beautifully the lady (Sandy) who made mine and my bridesmaid's bouquets does her arrangements, and they had to be brought from Sri Lanka. The fresh flowers would not have made it.   Well, in addition to all this we all had loads of cl...

 Looking back on my last 12 days with Gerard, I think of him lying on that bed in the ICU, intubated, with the ventilator, monitors and machines all around him, tubes in his nose and mouth, tapes stuck on his neck and his face, holding the tubes in place. The monitors beeping in the silent ICU. The smell of  medicines and  hand sanitisers, and on some days, a dialysis machine next to him, while I stood there and watched his blood flowing through the tubes. A blown up purple medical glove on his chest, to prop up all the paraphernalia that needed to be held in place. Doctors calling me into their rooms to give me updates and reports that I barely comprehended. He had to have the restraints removed from his hands to write things he wanted to tell me. The last time he probably smiled was when I spoke to him about our two girls and was imitating them, in the middle of the ICU.  When I told him that I loved him, he pursed his lips to give me a kiss, even with the breathin...

 I wake up to the sounds of the birds in the neem tree outside my window, the neighbour's dog yelping even before the sun has started to warm the streets, the milkman blowing his noisy horn while he rides around the neighbourhood.  The ladies in their nighties, with towels draped over their shoulders,  go outside with their shiny steel vessels, to have it filled with fresh, and creamy milk. This followed by a cacophony of sounds, as the ladies in the neighbourhood, talk to each other over the walls, across the streets, shouting at Jimmy, who has scampered out of the compound while she was engaged in a long chat with the milkman. And this is how my day begins, lying in bed, trying to block out the sounds with my thin bedsheet. I finally decide to get out of bed, look at the photograph on the shelf near the foot of my bed-'Gerard smiling', drink a glass of water, open the doors, unlock the gate, and go to the terrace to get a bit of sun. I look into the distance, at the squ...

It is 3 months since my husband, partner and best friend passed on..... And our lives will never quite be the same again.  I hear people (who just want me to feel some kind of comfort) tell me that he will always be there, or that he is watching over us. I think that it takes the loss of a loved one to know that there is nothing like actually having that person be able to touch you or be physically present.  We miss - How he spent time with the girls and me I asked if with his friends he would rather be, I want to be here and I don't want to go  I can surely meet them tomorrow. How he would sit on the bed in his pensive mood About religion and discipline we often argued. And he'd bring down his guitar from the wall, To sings some tunes with him his daughters he'd call. Storms Never Last and Sister Golden Hair  His nasal singing voice, and then he'd declare  Don't I have a good voice, Sugar? We would smile and even he would then snigger. He'd scream at us all if ...

19 - The days when I was 19 years old!! Those were carefree, fun days, filled with laughter. I had so many people I could mingle with. Those were the 'college days'. Everything was wild, fun, and crazy! We would attend classes rarely, sit at a small restaurant close by, and drink one cup of coffee for hours together. If we had a few extra rupees to spare, we would then decide to go get ourselves an alcoholic beverage. 19 Church Street - A pub on Church Street in Bangalore (in the early 90's). My friends, Claudette and Don, a few others and I were regular patrons there. This was when we had enough money to spend. This and Pecos were the pubs for us, because they were probably the least expensive, and were not too far for us to walk to. Of course we also had to consider the walk back to college once we had finished guzzling. 19 - The year 2019. The last few days of this year were well spent. With some of the people I love the most - My children, husband , my sibli...