The first thing I did once I got off the plane in India was visit my aunt-my cousin's mother. I cannot bear to write the word 'late' before the word cousin, because, at the cost of sounding overly sentimental, he is in my thoughts all the time and so he cannot possibly belong to the past tense.Never. In three more weeks he would have been gone six long months, but like they say, gone, but never forgotten.
Anyway, my athai was surprised to see me. Especially when I told her I had driven straight from the airport to see her and in a way I felt sorry I made her relive her loss one more time, but it was cathartic for both of us.
No pictures of my brother in the house-but her answer broke my heart-she said she couldn't bear to see him alive and smiling when in reality he was gone.She took me into a room, opened a cupboard and showed me his large framed picture which she had stuffed facing backwards against the wall! The enormity of her loss hit me then-I cannot ever understand how people can judge the fact that there wasn't a single picture of him in the house.Yes,there were those kind of people I encountered-people who have, ironically, lost a child in very very early infancy and always mention that loss when given an opportunity.
I was surprised to learn that she had never been to his grave, but by then I understood that she was grieving in her own way and no one had the right to ask her why or why not. She holds my dad, her older brother in extremely high regard and told me that she went to the mass held a month after his loss only because my dad expressed displeasure at her not wanting to go there.
When I mentioned that I was planning on coming back to Chennai the following week and asked her if she would accompany me to my brother's grave, she readily agreed. Pact made! But when I mentioned this to my sister,she gently warned me that Athai might go back on her word because she was still grieving and might not want that closure.
So the next week, my sister and I went to my aunt's house fully expecting a hesitant aunt expressing her regrets on her inability to accompany us, but there she was, dressed, ready, purse in hand!!
We had planned on taking an Uber, but my uncle walked into the house and returned with a set of keys and asked my sister if she would drive us to the cemetery.I fully expected Priya to say no, she hadn't driven much in Chennai, but the lady just took the keys and hopped in!!! Later she explained that she had agreed to drive because the car was my brother's.
And so it happened.My aunt went and visited my brother's resting place.It was painful-a mother's tears.But cleansing too.
She later mentioned that she had always planned on being buried in my native place(her's too obviously) because that is where she received all her sacraments-baptism all the way to her wedding and she preferred receiving the last one there too. But she had changed her mind once my brother was interred in Chennai - how could she let herself rest in a place so far away from him?
I've thought about my last resting place and came to the conclusion that it didn't matter to me....only to those left behind.But my aunt's perspective was revealing...a mother's love for her child transcends life itself.
Anyway looking back at my trip back home, the most fulfilling thing for me was visiting my aunt and my brother's resting place. Living 10000 miles away has its downsides and the most painful of them has to be not being able to say goodbye to loved ones on their last journey. Nothing can make up for that, but the fact that I tried in a small way to offer my aunt my sympathy and love to her when she was grieving gave me closure. And hopefully moved her forward in the grieving process. God will heal all..time will soften the shock..life will ease the pain....sleep well Dinni...you are always here with us..we miss you so much but you are here...the rose I planted in your memory bloomed today....beautiful..vibrant just like you. Your family is thriving...we will take this enormous loss in stride and soldier on..be with us on our journey...till we meet again.
Anyway, my athai was surprised to see me. Especially when I told her I had driven straight from the airport to see her and in a way I felt sorry I made her relive her loss one more time, but it was cathartic for both of us.
No pictures of my brother in the house-but her answer broke my heart-she said she couldn't bear to see him alive and smiling when in reality he was gone.She took me into a room, opened a cupboard and showed me his large framed picture which she had stuffed facing backwards against the wall! The enormity of her loss hit me then-I cannot ever understand how people can judge the fact that there wasn't a single picture of him in the house.Yes,there were those kind of people I encountered-people who have, ironically, lost a child in very very early infancy and always mention that loss when given an opportunity.
I was surprised to learn that she had never been to his grave, but by then I understood that she was grieving in her own way and no one had the right to ask her why or why not. She holds my dad, her older brother in extremely high regard and told me that she went to the mass held a month after his loss only because my dad expressed displeasure at her not wanting to go there.
When I mentioned that I was planning on coming back to Chennai the following week and asked her if she would accompany me to my brother's grave, she readily agreed. Pact made! But when I mentioned this to my sister,she gently warned me that Athai might go back on her word because she was still grieving and might not want that closure.
So the next week, my sister and I went to my aunt's house fully expecting a hesitant aunt expressing her regrets on her inability to accompany us, but there she was, dressed, ready, purse in hand!!
We had planned on taking an Uber, but my uncle walked into the house and returned with a set of keys and asked my sister if she would drive us to the cemetery.I fully expected Priya to say no, she hadn't driven much in Chennai, but the lady just took the keys and hopped in!!! Later she explained that she had agreed to drive because the car was my brother's.
And so it happened.My aunt went and visited my brother's resting place.It was painful-a mother's tears.But cleansing too.
She later mentioned that she had always planned on being buried in my native place(her's too obviously) because that is where she received all her sacraments-baptism all the way to her wedding and she preferred receiving the last one there too. But she had changed her mind once my brother was interred in Chennai - how could she let herself rest in a place so far away from him?
I've thought about my last resting place and came to the conclusion that it didn't matter to me....only to those left behind.But my aunt's perspective was revealing...a mother's love for her child transcends life itself.
Anyway looking back at my trip back home, the most fulfilling thing for me was visiting my aunt and my brother's resting place. Living 10000 miles away has its downsides and the most painful of them has to be not being able to say goodbye to loved ones on their last journey. Nothing can make up for that, but the fact that I tried in a small way to offer my aunt my sympathy and love to her when she was grieving gave me closure. And hopefully moved her forward in the grieving process. God will heal all..time will soften the shock..life will ease the pain....sleep well Dinni...you are always here with us..we miss you so much but you are here...the rose I planted in your memory bloomed today....beautiful..vibrant just like you. Your family is thriving...we will take this enormous loss in stride and soldier on..be with us on our journey...till we meet again.
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