Some times the celebrated mothers day bring distress into sharp focus. I know aging happens, yet the hardest part of aging is that , even when it is inevitable , there is nothing you can do about it...not for the one whose life is shearing off in small threads, nor for the one left watching it helplessly...
you remember your aging parents, quiet moments of regret trailing you , for their infirm state, welling up in your eyes at times, yet you cannot do anything about it.
Even when you phone them , you realize oceans separate you and options are limited in every way.When you visit, you want to stay, yet each day ,your adult life pull at you a little harder and you know of the limitations that call itself --'responsibilities'.
Moving away from the place of your origin tugs at you the most, and then every progress become a constraint and in the end a useless endeavour, or it feels so.
You wander, lost , bereft of tethers that attach and hence bind, mourning that loss even as you tear at all restrictive weights..you dream , yet searching, in secret yearning for those binding tethers, even as you tear up the tethering forces that are invisible.
Here progress becomes its own failing... you "skype", marvel at the technology that gets you close, yet swirls of a vaccum deep inside robs you and in its wake, leaves shadows of distress..
You wish time had stood still, in one sense it may have quashed progress, but in yet another sense, inevitable losses would have been easier, may be...there you could visit your parents , frequently, comfort and ease their aging selves, taking leave as the day wears on and they wear on you.
Maybe they would feel the stability of living in the community they identified and became part of, from birth, delaying their whole aging process...they would have been happier, with less(owned tangibles), but active still with random routines, that in itself would have delayed illnesses and limitations ...
They sacrificed much for their children, mis-percieved as progress, so today you too continue in that same line of honorable mis-perceptions...
So while the communities have marched onto its current global form, at one corner of that information superhighway, you are caught between two worlds...oceans apart, with an ache that persist just like the waves, marking time, making it relevant..Yet you try to hold on to remembered bits, hold on to fraying connections , with the fraility of your mother on one end, with her memory that lurches between static and random recalls , and on the other end impatience in your daughter scraping at time for clear still moments of thought....
you remember your aging parents, quiet moments of regret trailing you , for their infirm state, welling up in your eyes at times, yet you cannot do anything about it.
Even when you phone them , you realize oceans separate you and options are limited in every way.When you visit, you want to stay, yet each day ,your adult life pull at you a little harder and you know of the limitations that call itself --'responsibilities'.
Moving away from the place of your origin tugs at you the most, and then every progress become a constraint and in the end a useless endeavour, or it feels so.
You wander, lost , bereft of tethers that attach and hence bind, mourning that loss even as you tear at all restrictive weights..you dream , yet searching, in secret yearning for those binding tethers, even as you tear up the tethering forces that are invisible.
Here progress becomes its own failing... you "skype", marvel at the technology that gets you close, yet swirls of a vaccum deep inside robs you and in its wake, leaves shadows of distress..
You wish time had stood still, in one sense it may have quashed progress, but in yet another sense, inevitable losses would have been easier, may be...there you could visit your parents , frequently, comfort and ease their aging selves, taking leave as the day wears on and they wear on you.
Maybe they would feel the stability of living in the community they identified and became part of, from birth, delaying their whole aging process...they would have been happier, with less(owned tangibles), but active still with random routines, that in itself would have delayed illnesses and limitations ...
They sacrificed much for their children, mis-percieved as progress, so today you too continue in that same line of honorable mis-perceptions...
So while the communities have marched onto its current global form, at one corner of that information superhighway, you are caught between two worlds...oceans apart, with an ache that persist just like the waves, marking time, making it relevant..Yet you try to hold on to remembered bits, hold on to fraying connections , with the fraility of your mother on one end, with her memory that lurches between static and random recalls , and on the other end impatience in your daughter scraping at time for clear still moments of thought....
Are you angry at your daughter?
ReplyDeleteI love your mom too <3. Without her, you wouldn't be the wonderful mom you turned out to be! I can't wait to see them.
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