Every January is a new beginning – most of the world cleans its slate and looks forward for the new year – new resolutions and new promises. It is a beautiful thing – to give the world and yourself another chance. It took me 7 years to realize that January ushers in a new feeling in me.

Late December/early January I bring out my mourning blacks (not literally). I enter the mourning phase of the year. I spend around 3 months in pain and tears – in mourning. Random memories bring tears and I often wish I could go back in time.

Then I enter the angry phase – I hate myself for not spending enough time and I hate my grandfather for abandoning me. Yes I consider it abandonment. Go ahead and say I have issues

And then anger gives way to gratitude. I look at where I am – where my family is and I know we will not be who we are or where we are without guidance from my grandfather

And then the final phase of my year – I remember moments and smile about them. I feel happy to have been blessed with such great memories.

Every year – the cycle repeats and this year is no different.

On his 8th death anniversary, we will be together. My parents and brother will spoil my daughter rotten. I will enjoy being the granddaughter, the daughter and the sister. My grandmother, hiding her pain – both physical and emotional will beam in pride as she is surrounded by her great granddaughter, grandson and granddaughter. Eyes filled with unshed tears, eating food lovingly prepared and making comments like “daddy loved this” “mamaiyaa would be sad/happy” time will fly. Tears will fall and we will remind ourselves that he would have hated to see us crying. We will laugh, create memories and try to burn ghosts trailing us. We will make promises to my grandmother that we will keep her happy and tell her we do it not because we have to but because we love her.

I will soak it all in and that is all I can do in this world. I hope I am wiser than I was 10 years ago and make the most of what life gives me. I will soak it in. I will create memories and live for the moment.

And at the end will come the words I wait to hear – “your mamaiyaa will be so proud of you”. I will brush aside the tears, enjoy the extra tight hug my daughter will give me and feel my heart constrict when she will say “mommy miss thatha”. I will feel anger, abandonment seep through me. I will enter the angry phase. I will hate my grandfather for never having seen his great granddaughter. The cycle repeats.

It is so easy to predict and I am sure the day will go as I typed it out. It is almost routine. It is strange how pain and farewell become routine in life. It is scary too.

I miss you mamaiyaa.

I saw this on Pinterest and I wish I could believe it – my biggest fear is that my grandfather is lonely and all alone up there somewhere.

Image from Poster-Street