My mom taught me forgiveness: smile more, smile heals hurting hearts. Push yourself more to forget. Then some more. Don’t think the unthinkables. Include everyone, even the ones who exclude your part. Give them what they want. Say yes often.
I practice forgiveness like a yogi does her morning rituals. I erase negatives with blank spaces. I give smile to words that caused me tears. I don’t think about hurting back. I push myself to the east side of the sky to welcome a sunrise. I think, I am making my mom proud.
At sixty, my mom has found a new room- full of her wounded stories from past, compartmentalized, hidden from sunlight, dusty, yet relevant like all her bright rooms in the house.
Here is what that taught me: memory is a strange place.
Not everything is temporary.
Not everything goes missing.
No matter how hard we try.
Is it too late to wish you all a very happy rest of the year? I am back to writing after a hiatus of three months, a year end, a harsh winter, an international trip, couple of airports that did not have places for diaper change, flu season, cold rainy days, flu season, flu season. Things keep happening in the life of a new mom. Hope you all are doing alright. Thank you for checking on me when I was away. Thank you for all the comments, straight emails, and instagrammed “hope you are doing well” messages. I am grateful. I am happy. That matters right?