This is however, the first time, that I will be going there alone. All by myself. No parents, no sibling, no husband, no kids. It is a journey I have to make. And I want to make. I’m going there to meet my mom and spend a few days with her. I don’t want her to be alone on September 7th.It was last year on this day that my dad died. It has been exactly a year since I went back to Kerala.
In a way, I was running. Each and everything there, holds too many precious, happy memories. Each turn that the road takes is going to remind me of something my dad said or how he once drove on these roads. Many of the trees that he planted there (and they have a beautiful garden) is going to painfully remind me of his loving hands that tended them. The river where he taught me to swim, the small shop where he used to buy me lemon sodas, the rubber estates where we used to have our walks, the kids to whom he used to teach conversational English—I’ll have to face all of it.
The place where they stay is a tiny village and my dad was a well known figure there. Whenever, we ‘city dwellers’ visit, there is always excitement and curiosity generated.
Nobody there understands or speaks English, and my kids and I are always, a ‘novelty’ when we visit. The people are very friendly and sweet. They had gathered in multitudes when my dad passed away and had helped so much. At that time I was in no frame of mind to even talk.This time I will have to.