November 14, 2020
Some scholars state that Valmiki’s Ramayana does not feature the scene where Lakshmana draws the protective circle around Sita before he reluctantly leaves her (at her behest) to find Rama. But it’s the circle version with which I’m most familiar and I always chewed on : yeah, to keep Sita safe, but also to keep her locked in. Knowing my thoughts on this tale, Bharat relished saying to me: “Sita! Don’t cross the line!”, giving me a kiss, and heading out to work. He’d smile as I’d burst out laughing every single time. As I write this letter on Divali, I miss him terribly. Today he would have been exhorting Taara to take out the colored chalk to draw kollam on the front walkway and buying pedas at Trinetra because he wasn’t crazy about my rava kesari. Though this is my second Divali without him (I barely remember the first), we just lost my sweet mother-in-law in July. We won’t light lamps or sweeten each other's mouths this year either.
Twenty-one months have passed since Bharat left us. Some folks told me the second year would be harder than the first and this has been true in my experience. The first year was fog-filled, mechanical. This second year has been one long, painful ache punctuated by staccato, piercing moments - awareness of the permanence -he is gone. Forever. As we move from Divali into Thanksgiving and then Christmas, I’m filled with thoughts of how much Bharat loved and honored these holidays. Around the Thanksgiving table, he’d ask us to talk about the things for which we were grateful.
Thank you to family and friends who never left me and stay by me still. Please know I’m so moved and bolstered by each text, phone call, package, card, Zoom, visit, and gentle nudge to venture a bit further out of my comfort zone. Thank you for loving me through (and despite!) my prickliness and moodiness.
Here, we are grateful for an election result which will require so much healing but also feels hopeful. And while we might not be on the same page about everything, having a woman named Kamala as VP feels miles away from being called the N word when I was growing up. A balm.
The children and pups are well. Sweet Raani turned 15 on 10/31. She’s still got it going on, but we sometimes find her staring vacantly at the wall -which is simultaneously endearing and sad. We give her lots of cuddles. Lassi is not the terror she used to be, but also not fully rehabilitated :) While she continues to play well with others and is very loving, she won’t stop eating poop!
Taara lives here with me, takes classes remotely through Sonoma State, and works 30 hours/week at Bass Pro Shops. She’s astonishing! Lucky for us she’s a wonderful communicator and we’re successfully navigating the move from parent/child to parent/young adult-roomie (who’s still my baby!).
Arjun seems very happy at the University of Maryland. He’s got some good research going on (and as of yesterday, his very first publication on which he is first author!), lovely advisor, wonderful classes, and maintaining fabulous relationships near and far. He’ll be home for a couple weeks around Thanksgiving and we’re excited! I’m grateful he makes sure to reach out via text and calls a few times a week. We look forward to visiting him there one day.
...when we can visit - which brings me to COVID-19. I’m grateful that we’ve been able to remain safe and healthy (touch wood) and am so saddened by all those we’ve lost and will lose. Praying for successful vaccines, but also for the distribution of those vaccines to all. I understand that these holidays will be so very difficult for folks and I’m very sorry for that loss of ritual and connection many people will feel this year.
In my world, where one of the worst things has already happened to me, COVID precautions seem a small inconvenience. I understand that this is also because I have a roof over my head, health insurance, my health, my children, Amma, sujatha, Jason, and Sathya are fine, and two jobs I am grateful to be able to do from home. So, I don’t know when my exile from joy will be over and I don’t care. But I have every faith that one day I’ll feel compelled to follow the lights back to myself, back home.
