Skip to main content

Pay Forward

I have known S for a while but she has never met my daughter. When S and I met a few weeks after my birthday, she asked how my day had been. I  shared with her that J had send me a beautiful floral arrangement and lunch delivered from my favorite place where she took me out on my birthday. S smiled and said that I must have been a wonderful mother. I was glad to hear her say that knowing how hard a bar that is for any woman to clear - being a wonderful mother

You do your very best, make a lot of mistakes along the way, stumble to recover from them and try all over again - try not to lose your sanity and self-esteem along the way. If you were to take an honest and full accounting of your performance as a mother, you might find that there were some great highlights but also significant lowlights.  In balance you were a mother who did the best she could and if the child knows and believes that to be true, chances are you have not failed them. I told S that while I have always tried my best, I am also very lucky to have a really good kid. J has always been a kind and thoughtful person  - she can make people she cares about feel loved and connected to her

As a child, on the morning of her birthday, J always woke up to a bedroom festooned with balloons and streamers. I did the decorations while she was fast asleep and quietly as I could. Seeing her radiant smile and look of complete surprise when she woke up was the best reward I could ask for. It was tradition to have cake for breakfast that morning. On a school day it was all a blur and she'd be half sleepy eating breakfast, opening her gift and wondering when her bedroom turned so festive and if she could stay up long enough next year to learn my secret. I wanted her to understand the reward of making the person you love happy. And that it is worth the effort to earn it - maybe I taught her self-altruism. This year, I got from J what I gave her as a child but done in her own way. She earned the same kind of reward that I did when she woke up on the morning of her birthdays as a child.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques