I lost my mother a little over a year ago to a multitude of escalating health issues in a relatively short span of time at the age of 76. In the last few months of her life, she displayed all the classic signs of mental withdrawal and rapid physical decline; gently preparing us, her children, for her departure. But despite best prep, you can never fathom what it would be like to live without your mom. And sadly now I do - and this worries me no end for my own kids. It's not the grief of losing a parent I am worried about. Even though I miss my mother terribly, I do understand it was her time to go, she was ready to as well. Barely able to, she whispered 'let me go' to my sister who was attending to her the day before she died. No, death and the cascading grief that follows does not worry me as much as the loss of the voice of reason.
Because that's what I lost with my mothers demise. The voice of reason and sanity in my life. The bandaid to all my scrapes and cuts as I stumble through life's many twisting and pokey alleyways. Now I know what it is like to feel low for days on end and not have anyone who can make me see things from a different perspective -you know, the hopeful, rosy perspective. I know now how easy it is to succumb to irrational, erratic behavior without her calming reasoning to hold me off. This last year I have been more emotionally unstable than I have ever been. I walked out of a perfectly good job because there was no one who could tell me otherwise. Sure, I had a few issues at work, who doesn't. I talked to my husband about those; even some colleagues and friends, and they being perfectly well-meaning, loving and supportive, were indignant and horrified for me. They echoed my inflated, irrational sentiments word for word, brow crease by brow crease, rubbed my back, handed me tissue to wipe my tears and made me tea. Hundred percent supportive, but superficially so. Most people these days are so wrapped up in their own drama that they don't really listen when you talk - and by that I mean they hear your voice but fail to register the undercurrents. So most go through the motions of being there for you without really knowing what they are supposed to be there for. So I got the 'support' - from my husband and friends. But what I needed was not their support but a voice of reason, or 'the' voice of reason; my mothers. I was not in the right frame of mind and my mum would have picked on that instinctively and gently cajoled me out of my irrational thoughts. She would have channeled my pattern of thoughts in a different direction - sending me along on an entirely different path and I would not have walked out of my perfectly acceptable job, as jobs go.
Out of work for a few months now, I have had time to reflect on what my mums loss has meant to me. And it genuinely keeps me awake some nights when I think how my kids will fare when I am gone. Will they be OK? Will they have a voice of reason in their life for their difficult times, the bandaid for their scrapes? Well, I hope they do. But I have also decided I am not leaving things to chance. I am going to write all the reasoning and the advice I could ever give them in this little pocket book that they can keep and refer to. Besides, out of work now, I need to keep busy! I think my mum would approve!
Saman Khanzada Mirza
