Something to keep me, like from life..

For once, I think it’s worth my time to get serious about something: writing, health, books or perhaps yoga for a simpler start.  Anything. Just SOMETHING! It all seems pointless though. But more necessary than ever. Mom left behind in me, apart from, of course a LOT of other tormented things, astonishing amounts of empty spaces in my mind. Really, my God! For days after her passing away, I sat through those hollowness of hours in complete disbelief, wondering ‘Oh God, what am I going to do with all the time everyday for the rest of my life?’ And it’s driving me crazy!  It’s still a clueless feeling for me because for more than 31 years, I’m simply used to living around her - sending all my thoughts her way, cracking every single morning with her, calling her up around 3:00 AM to ask her if she still had in her cupboard a favorite kurta of mine that I probably used during my high school year (of course, she did), going over memories of the good and the bad days we had had, collecting souvenirs to later gift her from my travelling to let’s say, an artless Amish county by the suburbs, getting mad at her for not watching a movie I loved, quarreling my way thru’ all the frustrating moments when I just couldn’t get her to agree with me(on a lot of things),  laughing stupid about some random, really old holiday memory, crying our heart out thru’ her initial days of diagnosis, hoping against the darkest odds that we would make it, sharing every tiny little secret of life, dark or funny, trying to create small spasms of happiness, as little as it might have been, as much as we could, whenever it was possible– my God! It’s unbelievable the way my entire life axised  around this lady. 

Sometimes I pick up the phone, dial her number and let it ring a couple of times before I end the call. It has never happened that I called and she never picked up. I won’t let any reality disturb that feeling. Nothing ever.