Daughter


Hm 017 (230)

February 1st, 2013

Another February is passing by bringing in memories of difficult times? Or is it the time when memories of lives well spent are cherished?

February, the month in which the people who gave me life, decided to let go of theirs. Feb 17, 2008 – the day my mother left us. Two years later, my father waited for February to arrive to join my mom – on Feb 1st 2011, we were without any parents. It was never a coincidence, they planned it like that, or so I believe.

For daddy’s little girl, he meant everything. He was the model for her future husband, for her unborn children. My father gave me a secure life, an education, gave me freedom, taught me to be wiser, and probably gave me everything I wanted. Perhaps everything I have and I ever will, is given by him. Even my husband – he found the perfect person for me to live my life with, just the way he had a wonderful life with my mom. I could never be more happier for all the times I had with him.

Still, I miss playing with him- pulling his big ears, teasing him about his perfect nose (which by the way, I never got, but my siblings did)…. most of all I miss being able to pick up the phone and just call – talk about nothing or something good or bad in life, nonstop, for he always listened…
Just miss that presence, the smile….

I am glad that he is still present with me, in my dreams. We converse, sometime it feels so real, its hard to believe it was just a dream. I know he is watching over me. I know he is happy for me and I know he is there for me…

Thanks for everything, thanks for the memories, daddy!

“That’s my daughter in the water,
Everything she owns I bought her
Everything she owns
Everything she knows I taught her
Everything she knows
Everything I say, She takes to heart
Every time she takes,
She takes apart
That’s my daughter in the water,
Every time she fell I caught her
Every time she fell……….”
– Loudon Wainwright

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Solitaire


Image

A scene from the beach on a Saturday evening. ..

“Solitaire is the only game in town…..”,
I can hear Karen Carpenters magical voice in my ears..

No, not really.

Yet, I wonder, when the world around enjoys the beauty that nature presents, why, why does this man seem to be playing solitaire? 

I envy this man. I envy his happiness. I envy his ability to stand apart from the crowd, and enjoy whatever he is enjoying. Envy his attitude of telling the world, go where ever you want to, I care less for what you do…
Envy his game of solitude….

It takes courage to stand apart, to care less, for what others think. In a world, where everyone is trying to please everyone else, it takes a lot, for not to care.

Everyone should take time for themselves, enjoy what they love to, forget the fears and ignore the stares.

Take time to play solitaire.. Solitude does not always means loneliness. Your thoughts are keeping you company.

Enjoy the solitude, clear your mind and revitalize your soul…

Let’s play solitaire…. 

 

Weekly Photo Challenge – Peaceful


A strange looking flower, with the loveliest color of all… What surprised me is a peaceful existence of the ants and the strange looking insect on this flower.. Can you spot them all?

Is that strange looking insect gonna eat the ant? Nah, not yet..

Let them be as peaceful as they can be…

Tell Me On A Sunday Please….


Relaxing on a Sunday…

I noticed this flower in the front yard garden, while walking along today morning. Pomegranate flower… Somehow I love this flower. Unique in its own way. Neither red, nor orange, in color. And for the fruit it bears, who can resist the ruby red inside? It doesn’t even have a pretty perfect shape. Yet, something about it makes me like it.

Happy about relaxing, taking it slow on a Sunday… Tomorrow may be another day altogether, but why let it worry you today..

Taking one day at a time….

Happiness, all in a dream!


My mom and dad were visiting our home. I was so happy to see them. I was sooo happy and was hugging my dad. I can still feel the hug, the happiness. Everyone was happy. Mom was talking about something. Then my dad was walking into a room. is it a bath room? I don’t know. There seems to be some water on the floor. Don’t know why, my dad’s steps didn’t appear very strong, all of a sudden. Wavering legs… I was watching him and I ran to him, trying to hold him. It seemed like he was slipping. The water was rising. I cannot hold him alone, he was sinking. I am trying hard… I tried calling my husband. Words were not coming out. Where is mom? I don’t know. Suddenly, I was shouting aloud my sister’s name, calling her, and the words did come out loud…….Ge—

“Hey, its ok.”, someone was shaking me, and I could recognize the voice of my husband. I opened my eyes, couldn’t say anything. I realized then, it was all a dream…. It felt so real. The closeness to my mom and dad, hugging my dad, happiness in seeing them, all felt so real. It could have been real, if my father and mother were alive. But the reality is, they are not.

February 1st is the first death anniversary of my father. February 17 2012, turns out to be the fourth year since my mother left us. According to the star on the day of my father’s death, next week will be his one year death anniversary. My brother had told me about it and I was supposed to confirm it with my sister. I hadn’t called her and was planning to, during the weekend. Is that why I was shouting out her name? On the day of the death anniversaries, we go to a sacred place, where we do the rituals, by the water side. We take the leftovers of the prayer, float them in the water, think about the dead, and then dip ourselves in the water. Is my dad reminding me of that? Is that what the water symbolize? I don’t know.

All I know is that I can still feel my happiness in seeing my parents at my home. I can still feel their touch. Even through the tears that are rolling on as I write this, I feel happy. Happy that my mom and dad are still with me. Even though he slipped away to death, I was there trying to hold him, protect him. It feels as if he is telling me it is ok, I tried.

I always have my mother and father in my mind, even after their death. Sometimes I feel quite normal thinking of telling them of things that happened in my life, talking to them about my kids, calling them to tell all the stories… only to realize that I am talking and they are listening (just like they always used to do, while they were alive) but I cannot hear them anymore…

Today I am happy for the dream, that made me cry. Yet, it leaves me feeling as if I’ve spoken to, been touched by, held by, listened to, by my late parents. I have never been happier to have a dream. Now dreams like this are the ones that I look forward to…

Happiness, all in a dream! I wish the dream would never end…..

Tomorrow, Tomorrow…


Wayside views…Just another tree along the road…

The golden yellow flowers usually are found in abundance in God’s Own Country during the month of March-April. It symbolizes the arrival of Vishu, a regional festival. Check out the full bloom of these flowers in this picture (https://menonh.wordpress.com/2010/03/20/festive-colors). How lovely they look!

For me somehow, this symbolizes new hope, of a better tomorrow. A hope of good things to come in the next days, even during the dry spell, as in the picture. The yellow flowers seems to lighten up an otherwise dry tree.

So, I find hope of a better tomorrow. Of course, hope leads to happiness.

Hope for the best and be happy!