The embers

“The embers are here to make us remember the fire”

– Arhan, 5

This weekend I thought about Ma a lot. It wasn’t anything in particular other than after a really long time it felt like a normal weekend at home. A weekend that had semblances of how things were with my family before she died. I woke up without feeling angry for a change. Or with undue anxiety. It was a weekend unlike any other, without any commitments after a long time. But somehow because it felt like a time long ago, the first thing I thought about inadvertently was that I had to call her. I hadn’t made that mistake in a long time. I used to a lot soon after she died. But then over time I became so angry and bitter that I was ever cognizant, yeah she’s not there. And that made me more angry.

I’ve been so angry for what it feels like such a long time that I’m an ember inside of myself. And I was about to flicker out.

But then I got tired of it. I got tired of feeling angry with everything. And it was a relief. I felt like I’d been waiting to exhale. It’s not like it’s behind me. But I’ll take this respite.

So several times this weekend I felt the urge to call her. To tell her about the snow that was coming. To tell her how we were preparing. How much her grandson was enjoying. Some inane stuff only she cared about. Ironically I never did feel that urge when I was angry. She would have just been upset. But today, I just wanted to talk. I wanted to talk to her so badly that I needed to get out. I went for a walk in the freezing temps. It was in the low teens. Cold and barren, I thought the freeze would help with the rage inside. And I wished she was there. And for what it’s worth, I saw her through what I’d been through in the last year or so. How close I’d come to losing my mind. And how I didn’t. Something that walked me off the ledge. That made me exhale. Must have been her. It was for her that I’d come close to give it all up. But something pulled me back. And I cried. I cried hot tears down my aching, frozen cheeks. I hadn’t cried like that in months just for her. Not for all the shit in my life but just for her.

So I exhale. And I inhale. And I keep moving on. But I move more easily. Not as heavy and leaden like before. I accept things as they are. And Simple Song by Passenger held me steady till I made it back home from my walk.

….”Well, I know it’s not been easy
But easy ain’t worth singin’ about
Yeah, I know, I know
The time goes slow
But it’s always running out…”

I came home to warmth, a fire and love. All of which have been here waiting for me. And so is she.

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