For a few hours today, things seemed to be okay and I did normal things.
Then Amma got sent back to the ICU.
And... Big A who seemed to be recovering nicely from last week's bicycle crash developed a high fever, tested negative for flu and Covid, and had to make a trip to the E.R. for possible sepsis.
I guess the silver lining is that I fall asleep the minute I lie down because I can't wait to escape this plane.
I nearly died every time the phone rang today, imagining the worst. One branch in my brain's flowchart was already making arrangements to travel to Bangalore. Simultaneously, another branch was completely certain that everything would be alright, how could the world go on without Amma?
I know the day is coming for me, for all of us, and especially people my age. Just this week, I've had friends describe parents as "actively dying" and witnessed (on Facebook) friends whose last parent died describe how it's never old to feel like an orphan. They were not ready. I know I'm not ready. I doubt anyone ever is.
Anyway, because my sister and I were constantly texting yesterday, I took some strength in thinking of ourselves as Wonder Women. Our group chat name plays with this theme--it's called "Wanda Women" since one of our family names is Wandawasi.
Pic: Top--our "Wanda Women" Profile photo; Bottom--the photo Big A took the morning they left. Nu is a bonus presence in both.
While my sister spoke to me over the telephone, I spied a smudge on the kitchen counter and assiduously swiped at it clockwise and anti-clockwise with a dishcloth.
I guess I was hearing her words but hadn't yet made sense of what she'd said.
My mom is in the ICU. She may need to go on a ventilator. She may have had a heart attack. All of this still sounds unreal. She was just here two days ago, being her usual self.
Before my sister's call, I had started today's post with this: The gentle, brilliant spoken-word poet Andrea Gibson, who died yesterday, once wrote “In the end I want my heart to be covered in stretch marks.” And I too want to stretch my heart wide with love and what it means to be human and alive and brave. But I can't handle the thought of my mom struggling to breathe.
The two on the left are now back in Bangalore.
I started the day stupid sad, but got progressively better as I crossed tasks off my to-do list.
Pic: From family dinner the day before they left. Amma, Chelli, Huck, At, Nu, and Max. I love everyone so much.... but have to say, Huck is the best poser.
We found a four-leafed clover to pack for travel good luck. And Nu helped me with the big suitcases and Big A managed to jenga us into one car with all the luggage despite his dinged-up elbow.
When we got to the airport, it turned out that one of their four suitcases weighed more than allowed (50 lbs). So I repacked it so it (and the other suitcases) came in at 49.5. I felt like a hero because we avoided the 100$ fine.
And I felt like a superhero when our little airport picnic of Parsi omelette sandwiches and veggies from the garden was pronounced perfect. But then they had to head for their gate via TSA and that's when my hero and superhero mantle crumbled and I (we all) (predictably) cried a bit.
And I cried lots more when I got home because Nu and Big A were there to be comforting. My poor long-suffering Big A--I spiraled a bit about my mom growing old, my sister not having a job, and how climate change is going to disproportionately affect places like India.
Anyway... we ate leftovers for dinner (yesterday's ratatouille and yogurt bread) and then I found a giant package of Kinder Bueno that my mom hadn't been able to fit into her luggage and left behind. I try not to eat questionably sourced chocolate, but this package was already here and Nu can't eat it (tree nut allergy), so I set to work. I've eaten seven (maybe eight) things this evening. Each one has two bars.
Pic: Amma and me. Photo by Chelli (baby sis).
My India fam is back from the trip to visit friends and we've been inseparable all day. Time is running out. This is likely my mom's last trip to the U.S. I don't feel like I can ask her to undertake 24-hour travel for me again. It's tough facing it, but my once irrepressible mom is not as hearty or hardy.
My sis and I have shared all the hacks and jokes we'd been saving up for each other. And she now knows all my walking paths, so when I send pictures of scenery, she'll know where they came from.
Big A is doing ok... It's his first wipeout in 35+ years of bicycling and I think that hurts the most.
Three nice things for me this week: 1) I got randomly picked as volunteer of the month at Helping Women Period and I shared that on social media in case other people wanted to get involved too.
2) I got an email from the colleague who runs the travel abroad program conveying some generous remarks from a student. That was nice in itself. I didn't realize until I got a thank you from the provost that the colleague had copied other people too. I thought that was extra magnanimous.
3) One of the editors of a recent thing I sent off wrote to another editor about my piece: "Isn't this just wonderful?" It's not much and doesn't mean anything in terms of production--but it just seemed so cheerful and unfiltered, it has made me smile every time I've thought of it.
Pic: Huck and Max. A bit serious--they like the extra pets with extra fam around, but they're not sure they like sharing me.
