Posted in Sad story

Wasn’t meant to be…

wasnt meant to be

My first attempt at fiction.   I wrote this short story (very short) awhile ago and contemplated a lot whether to post it or not.  My heart goes out to all the mothers and fathers who have to bid good bye to their precious babies.  My mum did it five times and my aunt the same.  I don’t want to open their wounds.  This may have been a product of my forlorn state after my Niece’s baby’s passing.  This is not her story.  But something unfortunately many women face.  I have no remedies for your shattered hearts.  All I can offer is a humble hug.

 

Wasn’t meant to be…….

“Wasn’t meant to be’… Same words, repeated over and over again.  Words that you don’t want to hear any more. Empty words chanted when nothing else to say.  There is nothing else to say and nothing else matters anymore.   Lu sobs quietly as each person hugs.  She really wants to scream.  Scream out loud “WHY, WHY ME?” “WHAT DOES IT EVEN MEAN, WASN’T MEANT TO BE” She screams within, holds back her words just let’s out the tears.


It’s still raining outside.  Ruby is refusing to get out of bed.  “Come on Rubes, you know, mummy can’t carry you anymore”.  Finally after all the “hurry ups and have you brushed your teeth” they head to school.

Mandy, Ruby’s teacher greets them at the door, “How long to go Mrs. Cavanah?” Lucille strokes her big belly, “Another five weeks and a bit”. Tommy runs in with his normal gusto and almost bumps into Lucille.  “Careful” warns Mandy and pulls Tommy to aside.

Lucille heads back to her car thinking “Not long now, we will have another Tommy”, “Oh God, hope not” she chuckles to herself just remembering the cheeky boy.


It’s another ordinary day at work.  Lu sneaks a moment to day dream.  Sipping her tea, she gazes outside.  She has a perfect view from her 14th floor office.  Rain had stopped, but people were still scurrying about.  “Why do we rush? “Is it so wrong to be a minute late?” Gentle thump from the belly jolts her back to the real world, to the world, where The Clock is the master and you are the slave.

She turns back to her computer, but not for long.  Her phone vibrates.  She smiles opening the message.  Max has gone berserk again.  He is wearing a St Kilda Jersey and is holding a smaller one.  She texts him back “you idiot” and a smiley face.  She heads back to the computer.  She finds it hard to concentrate.


“Little one’s not happy today” she thinks, slowly massaging her belly.  It’s nearly 3.00pm.  The pain was notching up. Her boss Amanda reluctantly lets her go home early.  “Privilege of a childless bitch” – Lu wanted to say it out loud.  But she holds it in and utters “thank you so much”.

Lu sends Max a text, “Going home hun, not feeling great, can you pick up Ruby?” “Sure thing, you rest up” “Take care on the roads, pretty slippery out there”.  “Will do, thanks”, smiley face Emoji – Lu puts her phone away, and gets ready to reverse.  She sees Amanda in her rear view mirror.  She had parked on the spot right behind her.  Her boot is up; she was taking some files and was about to head back.

Lu reverses the car out, puts her window down and waves at Amanda.  Amanda both hands full just makes a head nod.  It’s not that either of them like each other, but just a mere modern day courtesy. Amanda is a typical “Career Woman” No husband and definitely no kids. She lacks empathy towards women with any family issues or that’s how her co-workers feel.  Women in the department think that she is jealous of their life and hence makes them feel inferior when they have to take time off because of pregnancy or when their kids fall ill.

The pain was getting worse.  Lu now starts to slowly drive off, she passes two cars, and then she stops.  Couple of minutes passed and Lu’s car hadn’t moved.  Amanda feels that something was up. Amanda appeared at her window and asks “what’s it Lu?”

Lu was sobbing into the steering wheel. Lu lifts her head up.  She keeps crying.  She sobs uncontrollably. She tries to tell something to Amanda.  But words fail her, nothing coherent comes out anyway.  Everything blurted out as a sob.  “Lu, come on, what is it?” Amanda bends down to Lu’s shoulder level.  Amanda sees the reason for Lu’s melt down.  Lu was sitting in a pool of blood.


Panic, Chaos Siren, Ambulance, lonely hospital bed …..

 


“Wasn’t meant to be”… Same words, repeated over and over again.  Words that you don’t want to hear any more. Empty words chanted when nothing else to say.  There is nothing else to say and nothing else matters anymore. 

*****

So near but not close enough.  What’s the lesson in this? Hope, elated happiness and then snatched away without any warning, without any rhyme or reason. What is really the lesson in this? And why wasn’t it meant to be?

Oh God!! Why does it hurt so much?

Why is hurt larger than joy? Why does pain throb while happiness remains calm? And why does sadness lingers on while glee and merriment is just momentary.


There are no answers, Lu is told “wasn’t meant to be” is all you can say.

 

“Wasn’t meant to be”… Same words, repeated over and over again.  Words that you don’t want to hear any more. Maybe empty but words nonetheless, so it’s chanted when nothing else to say.  When there is nothing else to say and when nothing else matters anymore all you can say is “wasn’t meant to be”.

Or is it?

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/forlorn/

Posted in Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational

Man proposes and God Disposes (part 2)

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My father in law (mama) passed away on the 28th November 2016.  We were getting him prepared for a Cataract Operation and leaves us with a heart attack.  Well, he was old, he was slowing down, but he was still managing his own things.  He could shower by himself etc. So obviously this came from no where.  Well, saying that, we only recently came to know of his weak heart.

With all three kids out of Sri Lanka, his well fare and what do we next had been a major worry for us lately.  Just about two years ago just after his 80th he contracted an infection on his leg, then last year he broke his thigh bone and had to undergo an hip replacement surgery.  Since then we saw a slight decline of his health and his morale.  I also think passing of his mate PM was another reason.

So Jana hopped into his room on the 28th morning, full of beans.  He was surprised to see her as she wasn’t meant to be there till the 30th.  India was having a “hartal”, I have been informed it is a kind of strike action where all the shops and businesses are closed.  So Jan changed her plans and got to Sri Lanka by the 27th night.  She gave dad a big hug and said, “ok, dad we have things to do today” ( I don’t know if thats what she said word to word, but I imagine knowing her personality it would have been something along those lines), made him a cup of coffee, and explained the reason for her early visit.  She needed to change some local currency and she had decided to do some shopping for her dad as well, she asked him to be ready to go and see the doctors regarding the eye surgery.  Mama reluctantly said “ok then”.

She was on her merry way and suddenly she stopped before she reached the gate.  Went back and said “I didn’t give you a kiss”, gave him that kiss and left.  Mama had managed to shave and then gone to have a shower.  He had an aide who stayed with him during the day. He was making him porridge and heard mama calling out “Rajan, Rajan” he found him collapsing.  Jana returned home when the chaos was unfolding.  They rang for the ambulance and she rang me while waiting for the ambulance.

I was asking her “is he conscious”.  Jana was not answering my questions, I guess we were both trying to talk at the same time. The phone line was rather bad as well.  Anyway she hung up quickly as soon as the ambulance got there.  That was just a 2 second phone call.

I was thunderstruck, sat there for awhile trying to gather my thoughts and words. Now I had the task of calling hubby and his other sister who lived in Sydney.  I did it. Hubby was going to come home so we could ring again ask what’s going on.  His sister said she was going to call another relative who was also a Cardiologist, who knew all the medical history of mama.

I was seated, staring at the phone to ring. 20 minutes later the phone rings, maybe 15, I don’t really know, She was sobbing “appa (dad) is gone”, “What do you mean?!!!” appa is gone“. I had no words to say other than “Ennamma” (kind of like saying why hun”) , we both sobbed. I wish I was there to hug her, hug her tight.  She was there for me.  But I have never been there for her.

I thought what poor luck does this girl have.  First her mum, then she was the only one at home when the 1983 riots broke and her house was set on fire, then her hubby and now her dad.  The other two have always escaped doing the hard things.  But probably I have to look at it in a different light.  She was the lucky one to have had the opportunity to make him that last coffee, to have remembered to give him that kiss.  She wasn’t even going to be there till the 30th, even a twisted fate helped her to be there.

Everything else after that is a haze.  I somehow got the nerve to call hubby and sister. They left the next day to Sri Lanka.

There is no point talking about his passing or the funeral anymore.  He is gone and that’s that.  What ever we wanted to tell him but didn’t was a missed opportunity, What ever we managed to tell him or do for him was a blessing.

There are many life lessons to learn from this man.  Good, bad and the ugly.  But they are all lessons nevertheless.  He sure leaves an amazing legacy.  Proud to have been his daughter in law.  I am not sure if he ever regarded me as his daughter in law.  I was always a little girl who was his daughter’s friend.  Ah no I did become his daughter in law when ever he didn’t see eye to eye with his son.  Not that I didn’t have moments of exasperation thinking “why me” have to deal with these two bull heads.  But he was no ordinary father in law.  He was in fact an extra ordinary man.  He was a bit warped at times.  But aren’t we all.

I will gather my thoughts in the next couple of days and do justice to his memory.

Cont…