And I flatline as is expected.
Quietly and slowly I see myself floating around.
My husband watches me intently, stroking my limp lifeless hand.
Perhaps, he mulls over lost chances – of love, sharing conversations or making memories?
My dear dear son stands nearby talking in muffled tones.
Perhaps informing the near and dear. I wonder how many are upset, how many are relieved and how many simply relegate me to statistics
My darling daughter, for whom I fought the world, cries softly. I knew it always. She is the one who loved me the most.
This Grief-O-Roma kind of puts me off. Not up to my expectations I guess. They have to grieve more. After all, the glue of the family, the mother hen who tended to her flock with military precision is no more. Hasn’t the enormity stuck them? Why are they playing it low key?
I see a girl rushing in. My son on seeing her, suddenly breaks down. She hugs him, comforts him while he gets a grip on self.
I recognize her alright. How many rows have we had over this chit of a girl? My son, who wouldn’t earlier cross my Laxman-Rekha, had openly defied me. All for the sake of this girl. I had even stopped talking to him till he came around. I was never going to let my blood line defiled, by letting him marry that infidel. And now..
Im still lying there, my body is still warm and he has already run to her arms. Husband then acknowledges her warmly. She hugs my girl now and daughter clings to her for emotional succor. This hurts me alright. Big time.
What exactly is happening? Why are they all sticking together? Don’t they know I detest her?
And she has already taken my place. She is the mother hen now tending to my flock.
I watch her as she takes control over the situation, rallies the family around. The more I see her taking care of my family, becoming one of them, one with them, the more, my prejudices melt away. I start yearning to be part of this newly bonding group.
But, Alas I’m very late.
If only my blind beliefs hadn’t clouded my judgement and if only I had given this relationship a fair chance…I could have satisfactorily said “done and dusted” to my mothballed mantras!
My son wouldn’t have had this unspoken grudge against me and the girl and I would have made some lasting memories. If only.
Thank God for this girl!
I now float away.