The pain does not go away

Mum n Me (1976)

My mum passed away on February 15th, 2012. It has been more than a year. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her last days. I reached Kolkata, after a long 36-hr journey on 10th February only to find her non-responsive. She was breathing, on IV, but did not respond to touch. Her body cavities were filling up with water. She was at home, on her own bed, just as she had wanted, and not stuck in a cold hospital room among electronic monitors. She was surrounded by her brother and sisters, their kids - all her loved ones. The next five days were so painful to watch her fade away, ever so slowly and painfully. She had trouble breathing and we could not help her. We would pump out liquid from her mouth, give her oxygen, and had to sit by her side and watch her suffer. I hardly slept those days and was by her side all day and night, hearing her heave, trying very hard to breathe. I still shudder when I think of that noise of labored breathing. It was the worst five days of my life and brings me to tears so often.

Maa is gone, but I can't seem to forget that pain and sense of helplessness watching her die. It is so hard, I can't even explain it to anyone. No matter how often I talk about her passing and sometimes in great details, it does not help ease the pain. I feel the pain coursing through my veins, and it envelopes me like a flash flood, shaking me through the core. Memories of those five days hit me at most inopportune times - a light breeze may remind me of her last breath. I had felt it sweep over me. I had felt the earth move from under me. All her family and friends were around her at that time, but I felt so lonely and empty inside. I did not cry then, not a single tear, and now a light breeze brings a deluge of tears that I can't control. I can't seem to make peace with it. I still feel so very lonely in my grief, can't share it with anyone. Most people have not been through this, they cannot understand or comprehend the all consuming vacuum.

Today Nelson Mandela is going through his last days. He has been my hero, my inspiration since I was a little kid. I can sort of understand what his daughter is feeling, when she touches her father's hand, and I feel her helplessness. Yes, he is 94, he has lived a vigorous life, been a guiding light to the world. It is his time to say good bye to the world. But in a daughter's heart, it is very hard to see your parent go through this last struggle of life. You wish it to be smooth, but it is not in your control. You have to watch them suffer, and you can't share the pain. It is excruciating. My mum was 61 when she passed away, she had lived a hard life, nothing compared to Madiba, but in her own little world she too had to overcome momentous challenges.

Today as I cry for my mum, I also cry for Madiba because I love and admire him. But more so, I cry for his daughter who is probably going through the same experience I had last year. The pain does not go away, you can do nothing but learn to live with it. And it is very hard, much harder than anything you have ever done in your life!