X mas is something I look forward to each year with gusto. Though I am not a Christian, having studied in a convent school and lived in a cosmopolitan culture, I love the spirit of Christmas. In fact it was my favourite festival , it beat Diwali by a small margin. I loved the homemade cakes and cookies, the excitement of putting up a Christmas tree, unwrapping presents as a kid and wrapping them up for Nysa when I became a parent.
This time was extra special with the new addition to the family. I had bought a cute Santa outfit for the baby and had decked up the Christmas tree with fairy lights. I could never have imagined this Christmas would turn out to be a nightmare.
Its the day Suraj breathed his last. He went away, just like that.
We chatted like any other day and went to bed. Little did I know every thing I was doing with him, for him this Christmas Eve would be the last one. The evening walk, the debate over positive affirmation, watching another episode of “The Good Wife”, having our meal together, he doing the dishes while I tidied up the kitchen and that laughter for no reason. It was the last one. Had I done things differently if I knew this was coming?
The first 2 days I was in a trance. I just couldn’t believe that he was no more, He died peacefully in his sleep, a cardiac arrest is what we were told. Arjun and Nysa took charge and my parents were by my side. Isn’t 62 too young to get an attack, that too for a healthy person who watches his weight, exercises and eats moderately? Our twilight years had just begun, we looked forward to this new phase where our responsibilities as parents had lessened to a great extent. Our commitment towards our jobs would end soon. We had decided to travel the world, do things we like, in fact we had just enrolled ourselves for couple swimming classes. And it all came crashing down.
The financial matters has been taken care of by Suraj – a will had been drafted by both of us to help our dear ones find clarity amid the turmoil of losing a dear one.
Life is so fragile I thought. Till now I had been reading, watching on TV about death and attending funerals of other people- it alway happened to others. Not us. We are safe and secure we think. But we are not immortal. I look at the our wedding pictures, the honeymoon, the maternity shoot and Nysa’s birth, one after other. We had our ugly moments but the happy ones outshone those. We respected each other and above all were best friends. I knew he would never want to see me in this state. I had to get up, smile again and face the new day with optimism. I got up as I had to honour the pact that we had made- to stay happy, even if the other one was not along.
Linking up with #BlogchatterA2ZChallenge
My theme for the challenge is
“A slice of life through Myra’s eyes” – a fictional tale of growing up and learning some vital lessons about self love, feminism, sisterhood, a working woman and the essence of being a woman in urban India.