Dearest Aunty,
Now I have to remember you longer than I have known you and that revelation hurts.
Losing you was one of the most difficult and emotional experiences I have ever had to endure. I remember distinctly the profound loss I felt when the realisation finally sank in that you were no more.
I found myself reminiscing about the times we spent together, recalling your wisdom, kindness, and the love you shared freely. The nostalgia was both comforting and painful.
Mixed emotions were a constant companion as we prepared for the funeral and subsequent prayers. I had immense gratitude for the time we spent together, felt blessed having you as my mother-in-law then I felt angry at the unfairness of life; you were still so young, you were so fit, but sometimes I felt relieved that you were not suffering anymore. Experiencing these mixed emotions was crippling yet humbling. It made me realize that I will never recover from this heartbreak, and I have to somehow learn to live with it. Tell me, aunty, will I?
I miss you, aunty. I had so much more to learn from you. To learn how to be a dutiful daughter, supportive sister, devoted wife, dependable in law, nurturing mother and in overall how to be a kind and compassionate person. For me, that is the hardest part of the grief; you are no longer here to show me the ropes. I wish I had told you how much I look up to you, you were a role model to me. You always thought that you played a supporting role in everyone’s lives but the fact was you played an integral role. Tell me aunty, how do I move on?
You were the touchstone of a woman who not only embodied understanding, support, respect, and love but you also served as a guiding light for the family. You were a source of wisdom, offering valuable advice when in need and had remained a pillar of strength during challenging times even when you were unwell. Your enduring love and unwavering support made you the epitome of an exceptional mother-in-law. It was definitely because of my good karma that I was blessed with you as my mother-in-law. Tell me, aunty how do I continue this learning journey when you are here no more?
I know that life goes on. I can only take (very little) solace in seeking out your beautiful qualities spread among your loved ones; fierce love for the family among your siblings, selflessness in Shamala, empathy in Shanthan, deep respect in Guna, devotion to God in Shivaran, kindness in Diya, compassion in Anya, never give up attitude in Ayrton and curiosity in Dhyan. But above all, (when one removes his loud voice), I see a lot of you in Suren. You have given me a gracious man to share my life with and for that I am eternally grateful to you. But couldn’t I have more time with you?
I miss our conversations. I miss our walks. I miss seeing you at the doorway whenever we return to Melaka. I miss holding your graceful hand. I miss your reassuring hugs. I could not even tell you how much you mean to me without sounding like a blubbering mess when I had the precious few moments alone with you in the room just two days before you left us. But I hope you felt the love I poured into my tears and incoherent words.
I picture you reading this letter of mine on a bench in a beautiful garden in Paradise. You would read slowly, occasionally chuckling in disbelief and sighing the way you do. You will then lay the letter on your lap, look out far and have the soft smile on your face. And I hope when you do that, you will realize how important you are to so many people and that you are loved so much and so deeply.
My dearest aunty, funny that Jhuy calls you Amma and I call you Aunty. But you are the mother I received from the day I wed your son. You were more than a mother-in-law to me; you were my Guru, mentor and life coach. I may call you aunty but I have always revered you as other my mother.
I have read so much about grief and coping with loss. According to Winnie the Pooh, I am lucky to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. According to one Anne Lamott, you will live forever in my broken heart that will not seal back up but I will come through. According to Dr. Shaun of the Good Doctor, it is very hard to lose people I thought would never leave. But I will be okay because I have no choice. When I lose people I love, I have to find a way to keep going for the people I still have. But I am going to take my time. I am going to dwell in my sorrow for a bit. I realize it may sound despondent but it is comforting for me.
In my heart of hearts, I know that you have achieved Moksha but a small part of me yearns to have you come back to us again. ‘Meendum jenmangal maarumpothum, nee en magalaaga vendum’ It would be an absolute honour to have you as my child because ‘paasa ragangal paada vendum’
Rest in eternal peace, dear Aunty Archee.
Love Always,
Darsh
