15 Marbles

**Trigger Warning – loss, grief**

I have been MIA for a long time here. My last posts were getting ready for Diwali and full of anticipation for my dad and sister’s upcoming trip.

They arrived here in December and we had a fantastic time. After so many years, all the stars aligned and for the first time my dad and sister were visiting me together. We were all really excited. We had a few day trips planned, family meals together, lots of photos etc. Unfortunately, that was also the last time, our family was together and whole.

My sister returned home and dad stayed on for a few more weeks . I took some time off work and for the first time in so many years, I spent uninterrupted time with my papa – sipping chai, talking about life, gardening, teasing him about drinking chai and taking naps on the couch, watching movies( we had never watched movies together before),making future plans, taking sneaky photos of him with Mowgli ( he would figure out eventually and pose sneakily), etc.

I had been wanting to visit the Great Stupa at Bendigo with him, ever since the first time I went there. This time, I made plans to take him there. Twice, we decided on a day, but the thought of sitting in a car for so long discouraged him and we cancelled. He didn’t want to waste so much time in a car, when he could have been at home , in the same place as the kids. Then, MsA requested, ” Nanu, please lets go to the the Stupa” and just like that, he agreed. ” “Sure, beta, if you want to go, we’ll go” and off we went. I am so glad we did.

Australian Open was on at the time. I asked him if he would like to go watch a match or two – this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and his eyes lit up. Then he heard me talk to a friend on the phone discussing ticket prices and he said, ‘its not that important, we don’t really have to go’. I didn’t say anything, just bought the tickets and put my phone in front of him. His smile when he saw the screen.. Oh my heart.. I knew then that I had done the right thing. You see, my dad used to play tennis when he was younger. He was the first tennis player I knew of. He is the one that got me interested in the sport, way before I found my favourite Steffi Graf and Pete Sampras. He was like a child, so excited to see live action – he didn’t move from his seat for the entire time we were there, not wanting to miss any moment of the matches. He kept predicting who would win. But the moment he found out that the girls had returned home from their day out, he wanted to go back home, to be with his precious grandies. His friends would tell me later, that going to the Australian Open was the highlight of his trip- he couldn’t stop talking about it, telling them that his daughter made his dream come true.

Papa went back to Mumbai 2 days after our AUOpen day out and that was the last time I saw him happy and smiling. I had to fly to Mumbai 2 days later to say the final goodbye to my dearest Papa, my forever hero, my best friend in the whole wide world. It was surreal how quickly we lost him and if I am honest, we are all still heartbroken from this loss. I don’t know if we will ever recover from it.

I debated about writing this post, but how could I not. Papa was my biggest supporter when I first started blogging. Initially, I would force him to read my posts. He would ask someone in the office to print out a couple of posts and give me feedback when he had read them. In recent years, I would send him the link and insist that he reads and tells me what he thinks about my writing – positive comments only! He indulged me when I spoke about my blog friends, helped organise presents for them when I played ‘Secret Santa’ with them, accepted the whole sharing my life on the internet, without batting an eyelid.

It’s been 6 months since we lost Papa but it still feels like yesterday and I still have a lifetime to go without him. I miss his voice, his goofy smile on video calls, everything. The thing with losing a parent, especially your last parent is that it unhinges you- it off centres your universe and there is no coming back from that. But when you are a mum, a parent yourself, you have to keep going- keep doing everything that you must to keep ‘their’ universe intact, while trying to heal and deal with your own grief. I know he would want me to be strong and keep smiling, so I keep going.. until the waves of grief hit me again and then all I can do is break down and cry.

My papa was the kindest, most generous soul I ever knew of. He always had a smile on his face and gave everyone the benefit of doubt, regardless of their actions. We used to joke that even if someone put a gun to his head, he would say, ” don’t worry beta, may be the person was upset, we should keep being nice”. He was happy and content with simple things – daal-roti, chai, soft cotton t-shirt, beautiful flowers, his family. And he loved sweets 🙂 I like to think that he is reunited with my mom and sitting in a beautiful garden, sipping his favourite 1/2 cup chai with her updating her about the last 2.5 decades , and his beloved dogs are at his feet.

I don’t know when I will write again, but if you are reading this, thank you for reading.

Love, Trish