When we were leaving my parents house in Patna, India to go to the airport for our journey back to US, it was a tough goodbye. Relatives, friends, neighbors, the apartment workers everyone was there to say good-bye to their “baji” or “bhabi” or madam what ever they called my mother. It was a scene out a tragic Indian movie, everyone was crying and trying to touch her or kiss her hands, just somehow trying to keep a part of her with them. Somehow mom knew this might just be the last time she was seeing them too. She kept asking me give money as a gift to everyone who came.
Mom is talking to my sister who is leaving tomorrow after visiting with her family last few days. She called my sister to her room to say good byes as they have to leave super early for the airport . Once again, she knows, she understands that her only daughter is leaving tomorrow. I walked out of the room. I am not good with goodbyes. I hate them, to tell you the truth. Mariam is in there with them. I am sure she is not smiling either. She is too soft, her heart melts fast.
Moments like these are bitter-sweet. They are sad, but give hope.. Mom can still understand somethings… sometimes.