How does it feel when one loses both parents in span of 2 odd years? I should know, but I don't. Will make an attempt to explain the paradox!
4 years back, my parents' home was a vibrant place because both were vibrant personalities. Popular, social, outspoken, courageous. Their home witnessed guests everyday, all guests have pleasant gastronomic memories. My mum had excellent culinary skills, one out of her many skills. The "old" couple never compromised on their meals, menus were never repeated for at least a week. The last twenty-five years they lived alone, post retirement and back to their hometown Mirza, after spending the earlier twenty-five years in the National Defence Academy, Pune.
We were devastated when we discovered Mum had a hard breast lump, a secret she hid very successfully as she did not want to bother her children. It was Stage 4, surgery, the sure-shot cure for breast cancer if detected in the early stages, was ruled out. With medicines she survived for 2 more years. Post her death, we discovered Dad had dementia, another secret effectively hidden by my Mum. She had told her sisters to keep dad in an old age home after her death as "Juri wont be able to manage him." But Juri managed him. Juri was too scared to become an orphan, to be alone. Two and a half years later Dad too was gone. He knew his time of death and had told me about it. I had mistakenly assumed I could fight destiny.
Dad was a writer, a fighter, a socialist, an excellent orator and had an exceptionally sharp and brilliant mind. A glance across the room and he would understand what I wanted to say. My mum was equally brilliant and we witnessed a lot of academic parries on the dining table. They took care of me on their own when my forty two year old body underwent bone marrow transplant and I had no other caretakers.
So do I miss them? I don't think so. Do I love them? More than ever before. I sense their presence everywhere. In another dimension for sure, but everywhere.
