At around this time of day, on this date, four years ago, all that remained of her was a heap of possibly still warm ashes. I was not there to witness the raging fire hungrily consume her, nor see her smouldering remains. If anything, I would have very much liked to be there by her side, in those last few moments before her ashes turned cold. She did not like being alone, especially as she grew older.
When this day comes around again, nothing can offer any solace to the longing that consumes my aching, sorrowful heart. It feels so hollow, yet is so filled with her memories, that while I am mournful, it is bereft of sadness because there is so much to celebrate about her life. My dear precious Mother. Four years later the tears flow, as they have not done since the day she passed. For some bizarre reason, four years later, I still draw a blank when it comes to her date. Till last year, I was confusing the month between September and October, and still mix up the date between the 14th, 15th, and 16th of October. I have to ask family members in India, and did so again this year. When will closure come, does it, ever?
Woke up this morning with strange dreams, and almost immediately remembered what day it was. Had an uneventful most of the day, and left early for my 3:00 pm with JoAnn. After my appointment, while it was still early, I put in a few places in Google Maps, to knock off a few errands pending from earlier in the week. Then decided instead, to just go home.
The car, however, drove me to Cranes Roost Park. The same car that took her to the airport as she departed from here, after her last visit to America. That day, if I could live it again would be vastly different. I was distracted and disorganized. Sweet Susan saved the day. If I had any sense my days with her would have been different, and I would not have let her go.
Cranes Roost Park was my mother's favorite place in all of Florida, and it is one of mine as well. It is a huge man-made lake with a walking path around it, and at one end, there are gardens with a musical fountain in the center which puts on a light and music show on the hour in the evenings.
My mother was an enthusiastic walker and Cranes Roost afforded her that delight, and then some. She loved watching the turtles and the huge fish jump out of the water as they jostled with each other and the turtles to catch the bread or other food directly in their mouths before it could hit the water. The walkers and joggers and other people, in general, kept the fish and the turtles well fed, delighting in this unorchestrated aquatic show.
Mummy discovered Cranes Roost on her visit in 1997. She made it a sacred routine to go there every day at the crack of dawn to welcome the sun as it rose in the pale blue Florida sky, breaking the cool spell of the night, and ushering in the humidity which coupled with the heat is elemental to Central Florida living.
I remembered Mummy had made friends with a Senior couple who lived in the 55+ Community next to our apartments. They took her to the Winter Park Chamberlins Health Food store, (now an REI) by bus, and she was so stoked about it. She came and told us how the bus left from outside the Sears (now closed) in the Mall, and it cost just 50 cents and her friends had very kindly paid for her fare. The couple went every week, and Mummy frequently went with them, sometimes to the smaller Chamberlins in Altamonte which is still there, and when I visit, I am often reminded of her.
I was thinking of Mummy, as I walked around the lake today. Mulling over her favorite memories, the stories she liked to tell most, and the things she did, the people she loved, and her strength in the face of harsh adversity. Every step I took at Cranes Roost, was deliberate and with meaning. Twice it rained. I was getting wet, but luckily I had the hat to protect me. Twice I paused to let the rain pass, sitting once on one of the black metal benches under one of the 'tents' along the walking path when it goes over the water. She perhaps sat here too, when maybe it rained on one of her walks or was it the sky paying homage in memoriam?
As if on cue, the sky suddenly blazed a rich yellow. The sun hung low and it shone very brightly, suddenly looking bigger on its way down. I saw the Sun as it set, on this, her day. It made a spectacular show of the skyline, as it headed off to rise in India, where its rays will fall on the ground upon which my mother became ashes, dust to dust, on the land where she lived, and worked and walked, and fed the birds and talked to the trees, and went on pilgrimages, and rejoiced. The sun has risen on a new day in India, the beginning of another year from the date of her passing. My dear precious, beloved mother. She was my mother, she was my father, and she was my Rock.
As I was leaving Cranes Roost, I saw a mother-daughter with arms interlocked, and I was reminded of my time with Mummy when as a teenager, I waited for her to come home from work, and we took our dog for a walk in the evening. On my approach to SR 436, I saw the bus pullout from the same spot where she would have taken it. Small coincidences, or little signs that tell me she lives on in me, in memory and in all I am and all I do. It is of little comfort. It is also a big reminder to live in the moment and to cherish every bit of the present. To be grateful for being loved so much, that when the bestower of that love is gone forever, your heart breaks like nothing else even matters, even though intellectually you know that this too shall pass, and you will be reminded you are the richer for having been loved. After all, where else do we learn how to love?
And so it goes, four years have passed, gone by effortlessly, as life goes on. I came home and sat on 'her' bed. Her pictures are still up in 'her' room. Her paintings adorn the walls of my house. I miss you, Mummy. Thank you for being my mum. I miss you every day.
Your ever loving daughter,
Veenu
Text and photos Copyright Veenu Banga 10/16/2019
When this day comes around again, nothing can offer any solace to the longing that consumes my aching, sorrowful heart. It feels so hollow, yet is so filled with her memories, that while I am mournful, it is bereft of sadness because there is so much to celebrate about her life. My dear precious Mother. Four years later the tears flow, as they have not done since the day she passed. For some bizarre reason, four years later, I still draw a blank when it comes to her date. Till last year, I was confusing the month between September and October, and still mix up the date between the 14th, 15th, and 16th of October. I have to ask family members in India, and did so again this year. When will closure come, does it, ever?
Woke up this morning with strange dreams, and almost immediately remembered what day it was. Had an uneventful most of the day, and left early for my 3:00 pm with JoAnn. After my appointment, while it was still early, I put in a few places in Google Maps, to knock off a few errands pending from earlier in the week. Then decided instead, to just go home.
The car, however, drove me to Cranes Roost Park. The same car that took her to the airport as she departed from here, after her last visit to America. That day, if I could live it again would be vastly different. I was distracted and disorganized. Sweet Susan saved the day. If I had any sense my days with her would have been different, and I would not have let her go.
Cranes Roost Park was my mother's favorite place in all of Florida, and it is one of mine as well. It is a huge man-made lake with a walking path around it, and at one end, there are gardens with a musical fountain in the center which puts on a light and music show on the hour in the evenings.
My mother was an enthusiastic walker and Cranes Roost afforded her that delight, and then some. She loved watching the turtles and the huge fish jump out of the water as they jostled with each other and the turtles to catch the bread or other food directly in their mouths before it could hit the water. The walkers and joggers and other people, in general, kept the fish and the turtles well fed, delighting in this unorchestrated aquatic show.
Mummy discovered Cranes Roost on her visit in 1997. She made it a sacred routine to go there every day at the crack of dawn to welcome the sun as it rose in the pale blue Florida sky, breaking the cool spell of the night, and ushering in the humidity which coupled with the heat is elemental to Central Florida living.
I remembered Mummy had made friends with a Senior couple who lived in the 55+ Community next to our apartments. They took her to the Winter Park Chamberlins Health Food store, (now an REI) by bus, and she was so stoked about it. She came and told us how the bus left from outside the Sears (now closed) in the Mall, and it cost just 50 cents and her friends had very kindly paid for her fare. The couple went every week, and Mummy frequently went with them, sometimes to the smaller Chamberlins in Altamonte which is still there, and when I visit, I am often reminded of her.
I was thinking of Mummy, as I walked around the lake today. Mulling over her favorite memories, the stories she liked to tell most, and the things she did, the people she loved, and her strength in the face of harsh adversity. Every step I took at Cranes Roost, was deliberate and with meaning. Twice it rained. I was getting wet, but luckily I had the hat to protect me. Twice I paused to let the rain pass, sitting once on one of the black metal benches under one of the 'tents' along the walking path when it goes over the water. She perhaps sat here too, when maybe it rained on one of her walks or was it the sky paying homage in memoriam?
As if on cue, the sky suddenly blazed a rich yellow. The sun hung low and it shone very brightly, suddenly looking bigger on its way down. I saw the Sun as it set, on this, her day. It made a spectacular show of the skyline, as it headed off to rise in India, where its rays will fall on the ground upon which my mother became ashes, dust to dust, on the land where she lived, and worked and walked, and fed the birds and talked to the trees, and went on pilgrimages, and rejoiced. The sun has risen on a new day in India, the beginning of another year from the date of her passing. My dear precious, beloved mother. She was my mother, she was my father, and she was my Rock.
As I was leaving Cranes Roost, I saw a mother-daughter with arms interlocked, and I was reminded of my time with Mummy when as a teenager, I waited for her to come home from work, and we took our dog for a walk in the evening. On my approach to SR 436, I saw the bus pullout from the same spot where she would have taken it. Small coincidences, or little signs that tell me she lives on in me, in memory and in all I am and all I do. It is of little comfort. It is also a big reminder to live in the moment and to cherish every bit of the present. To be grateful for being loved so much, that when the bestower of that love is gone forever, your heart breaks like nothing else even matters, even though intellectually you know that this too shall pass, and you will be reminded you are the richer for having been loved. After all, where else do we learn how to love?
And so it goes, four years have passed, gone by effortlessly, as life goes on. I came home and sat on 'her' bed. Her pictures are still up in 'her' room. Her paintings adorn the walls of my house. I miss you, Mummy. Thank you for being my mum. I miss you every day.
Your ever loving daughter,
Veenu
Text and photos Copyright Veenu Banga 10/16/2019
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| Sunset at Cranes Roost Park on 10/16/2019 |
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| Portion of the walkway around the Lake |
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| The sky after the Sunset on 10/16/2019. The Altamonte water tower enjoying a great view. |
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| The ducks calling it a day |
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| Another view |
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| The lights come on |
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| A closer view |
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| Another day to be grateful for, a day lived in health and gratitude for much that we are given. |
