Skip to main content

Making Milestones

Calling my parents on their wedding anniversary has felt awkward for a long time. Theirs was always the kind of marriage I absolutely did not want and in fact it made me highly marriage averse to begin. Yet, they have stayed on together and the years and decades have added up. On some of the bigger anniversaries, I have paused to wonder how anyone including a middle-aged child of a couple can have perspective on what makes it work for them. For many years now, they go to a temple somewhere away from home, spend the day there, say their prayers and return home. The date and the fact is acknowledged, the wins they have had together likely gives them the energy they need. All that was and is broken is no longer discussed, too much time has passed, age has diminished if not eliminated any desire for improvement. 

Status quo is all that there is left. They were a strong team, aligned on important goals and pulled in the same direction to achieve them. That can and should be called a strong partnership. But there were areas of great discord and disharmony, differences that would never be resolved. From my vantage point, what did not work between them left them greatly diminished and unable to be whomever they were destined to be. It is as if two people meet at the start of a long race full of enthusiasm and hope of cresting that finish line together. They want the same thing and they want to do it together. Even before they are half way there, everything has changed. 

They no longer think big, expansive and life-altering. Just get it over with, somehow. They still stick together as that was the agreement and get it over with and they just stay together from habit and inertia. That is a partnership too - no one was abandoned by the other. I like to imagine sometimes who my parents might have been if their partnership provided them both the nurture they needed, if it helped propel the other to fulfill their dreams. 

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...