Yesterday morning, when my 12-year old flew alone for the first time, I remembered your words, ‘Mayer mon’ (roughly translated from Bengali, the attitude of the moms). You used to describe all your panics, fears and tensions with these two words, when I used to get exasperated with you being overly cautious with me. You still say these, I know.
But yesterday, when I was getting scared and imagining all sorts of what-ifs for my child, I remembered you. Not that I don’t remember you otherwise, I know we speak to each other at least once a day. But even then, there are some things, I guess stay with you for a lifetime, these profound words of yours are such an example.
I still remember the times when I tested possibly all your patience with my bohemian attitude and my sense of independence with late nights, bunking classes, and many other parental nightmares. That time I thought I knew the best, and you were, I was convinced, becoming anxious for nothing. All those times, you had simply explained yourself by saying, ‘Mayer mon’.
Life has a habit of turning a full circle, so here I am, after a bout of biting my nails, and clenching of stomach, letting my child travel alone, and trying to console myself by saying, ‘Mayer mon’! Today I am at that stage of my parenting role when you seem so correct, it was just that we had different points of view.
I guess we never become anything other than mother and daughter, no matter how old we grow, or how mature. I learnt everything I have from you, and I am still learning, even as I became a mother myself. So thank you Mom, you can now go ahead and say, ‘I told you so’.
I am writing a Tribute to Mom in association with Parentous.com