John P Matthew on Writing, Book Reviews, and the Writing Life!

Pictured here are Neha (neice), Lillyamama (elder sister), cousin, and aunt (she is older than Ammachi)... in grief!


Sonnet for mother: Her Last Journey

Decked in blooms,
Swaddled in gold filigreed shrouds,
Smeared with perfumes,
She traveled into the clouds.

A life of love lived,
A life of more giving than taking,
Living a life of tears shed,
Turnings, and missed crossings.

She lies besides father,
In a grave prearranged for her,
Knowing she would be in the sepulcher,
With the man she had promised to care.

There is a time when we all connect
And then we all must self-destruct.

Ammachi's last journey to the world beyond.

She died on 06/01/2006 and I was with her when she died. She was eighty-eight. A priest said during the funeral, "You are only prepared to live, if you are prepared to accept death." How true.

If this is the end - for which we all have to prepare - then we better start living, loving, celebrating, creating, sharing, revelling in this journey called life.

Are you prepared to die? Only then can you prepare to live, as our priest said.

She was a teacher who sacrificed her career to look after her five children. In the process she became old, wrinkled, and lost her teeth and her eye sight. Her regret was that she didn't pursue her career as a teacher. If she had she would have been drawing a good pension, a fact she regretted all her life! Each time I used to phone her she would ask, "When are you coming?"

When she was grieveously ill and bed ridden she actually told me, "Why don't you lie down somewhere, you look tired." Guess mothers are always like that, sacrificing, giving up, letting go, releasing, and still willing to give unconditional love in spite of all the cruel neglect they receive from their children.