Hit by nostalgia

The reason for the disease - A visit to the childhood home

Thinking of :Childhood + childhood home + carefree days = that :drowning feeling you cant get rid of.

Well, I was at my childhood home for the weekend. Entering the town that I grew up in and the roads I roamed on brought back hordes of memories to relive. The days when I was small and carefree and when thinking about future was not my obsession. When I thought my grandpa would be around forever to declare anyone doing anything against my wishes as an idiot; and that mum would be hale and hearty forever running around the house plucking flowers, cooking my favorite dishes and smiling at me; and that dad would always remain the handsome man mom blushed for, buying me my weekly dose of chocolates; and that my sister would always remain that 2 ft toddler roaming around me with eyes full of awe at her big sister grinning with her 2-tooth mouth daring me to pick her up and play with her! I almost ignored my DH from the moment we entered the town till the time we left the town and he was left agape thinking where his wife was!

Since my grandpa was quite well off and had a super cool reputation as a lawyer, I got to boast of the biggest home and bestest room in our class! And how I adored that house. Entering the house today made me remember the golden days of my maidenhood..! The first thing I remembered looking at the fresh paint (painted for my wedding 8 months ago) on the walls was the artist that I was! And how I looked with satisfaction on the art I had made on the living room wall, smiling with a tooth broken here and a tooth broken there! Until, my mom came running sensing a artist on the loose by the screeching sound of the colour pencil on the wall..!! Then I ran and ran and reached my grandpa's bedroom snuggling up around his big belly so that mom had to return to her kitchen with a lecture brewing up in her sleeping-time-talk!!

And as I turned to look at my mom, I half-expected to see that petite and charming young mother of mine but reality struck me as I saw a little plump lady with hair whitening on the edges trying to open the sweet container with her arthritis-ridden hand. What was still the same was the smile on her face and happiness twinkling in her eyes as she left the container for dad to open and came to me for a tight-world-best-hug of hers. Instead of that handsome husband of my mom, I saw a half-balding man with wrinkles showing up on his experienced face trying to read my eyes whether I was happy and was my man keeping me as happy as he would have. I saw the garlanded photo of my grandpa hung on the living room wall with incense sticks burning below, and I remembered the last talk I had with him in hospital where I told him that my college professors had told me that I was one of the brightest in my batch, and I still remember the look of satisfaction mixed with pride crossing his face. I also remember that even in his last moments he had been angry on dad for asking me to bring water for the doctor, and had pointed out at the maid to do so, not wanting his granddaughter to work...

It struck me that while we were young, we never noticed the changes that were happening in the faces of our family members. We always imagined them with their young faces and tough bodies. Now that I saw my mom turning fragile with arthritis & thyroid and my dad looking at me with worried eyes and balding head, I realized that the mom-dad of my imagination have left their youth far behind, wasted on us and our upbringing and they always worry of their daughter who has left HER home to make a home for her own. As I look at the face of my young sister chatting on phone with her college friends, I realise she is no more that toddler looking up at me but has grown from that to my calm and composed sister advising me on how to cook pasta "duh didi, you put oregano at the end, not nowww!!!!! You will spoil it"

When my dad tells me one of his college friend had a heart stroke, I worry for him. I worry for my mom. Because these two are the pillars of my strength, talking to me calmly and lovingly when I'm shouting at them coz of the frustrations of MIL. They are the ones to make me understand that this time will pass and I'll be happy once the PIL start understanding me. The reason why I was born. The reason why I am me. MY PARENTS. And I simply cannot afford to lose these gems.

As I look back in time, I wonder why I grew up. I look up at the clear sky in the unpolluted town, turning from blue to amber to the dark twinkling sky and wonder whether God knows what I am going through right now. I talk to him with tears welling up and ask of him, one favour. Not my troubles, not at all. But my parents health. Their smiles. Their happiness. That is when it strikes, "their happiness lies in mine" and there is no end to worries. I go inside and snuggle with mom on the couch as my husband waits in the room, and I tell her how much I love her, and she smiles in her sleep, like I used to do, when I was young!!

I dont know how much justice I have done to my childhood from this thread, but I know for sure, it seems very beautiful and calm in my dreams. I hear laughter as I run in the garden for the red rose and my mom laughs behind me warning of the thorns. This is life. My parents want me to get the rose. But they know until I am pricked by a thorn, I wont know that there are no roses without thorns! There is no life without troubles......

 

BL, thanks a lot.

In your life whatever happened is for good only.

Will remember this!

 

Thank you for your prayers CW. Who doesnt need them right? Thanks a lot

 

thanks Insha for liking my snippet. and no dear, ur words are not unrelated at all.. It all connects somewhere

Thanks