Amma was admitted on Tuesday, and her condition deteriorated very quickly. It was a working Wednesday, and I didn’t have any time to do much. I decided to book my tickets, dumped stuff in a bag, and then coordinated my days off with my manager, made a couple of phone calls to let few friends know . Writing about Amma helped me through that long flight.
I landed in Doha and found out. I feel so bad for my sister, Seema, as she didn’t want to tell anyone until I heard firsthand from her. But the flight was too long. She called Mr. husband, and he advised them not to wait any longer to inform relatives. He called/texted a few of my closest friends here.
Once I landed, I had no time for anything. But people who loved me and cared for me were right there in all possible ways. Most of them had no idea I was in India. They called, left me voice messages, sent me texts, and left comments and messages on WhatsApp, Facebook, and Instagram.
As I am still going through those hundreds of messages to respond, I can feel the warmth and love, the support and concern. Please know that every text, call, voicemail, card, flower, and plant means so much to me. I cannot express my gratitude in words for how your words help me get through the day.
Today, it’s been two months, and this afternoon someone texted just to check on me. We don’t talk/text often, but these random check-in texts help me get through the tough days. Please keep them coming.
A friend hosted a Tea - the Theme was Mom’s saree. The theme was tempting enough to take this very old saree out. Amma didn't enjoy wearing black or white. I dont even know how come she had this saree, may be one of my sisters but it made its way to my bag during one of those trips. I couldnt stay long for the tea but long enough to feel the love and comfort of friendship.
A simple cotton for a beautiful summer evening .
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