Remembering YOU

My dearest baby doll, I missed you more than other days on your twenty-sixth birthday which was yesterday. You, of all the people I know, had reaped immense benefits of therapeutic writing. I have unaddressed and suppressed emotions and feelings which I would like to let out in the form of this blog. So, I am pretty sure you will be fine with me writing about you. 

You came into my life when I was at my worst. You were a God-sent. Within two short years of knowing you, I have known you as someone full of life, irresistible charm, and insatiable hunger to learn. You had a heart of gold and your precious soul had the softest corner for me (and I tell you, I am still clueless AF about why you loved me in a way you did). You used to call me mama and you were the one who smothered me with your over-annoying concern to get my arse out of my house and nudging me to interact with others even when I didn't want to. I vividly remember how you literally barged into my house unannounced, pushed me to the bathroom, picked up my dress, and didn't stop yelling mama till I stepped out of my shower and got in the dress you picked for me. You dragged me to go out with you for our date, just you and me.  And that's how we started going out for our monthly date (our monthly date is long overdue). You used to drag me along with you to be part of social gatherings even when I badly wanted to stay in. You used to turn deaf ear to my excuses to stay in (hey, I blame it all on my introverted personality). You wanted me to have a social life to come out of my depression. 

I feel extremely uncomfortable when someone compliments me so it makes sense that I don't give compliments to others.  As I write I don't remember thanking you for all the things you did to me. I should have thanked you for not leaving me alone during those nights when it rained heavily with the scariest thunder-lightning. I should have thanked you for putting me to sleep when I struggled with insomnia. I should have thanked you for holding my hands and being my breathing coach in the midst of those endless panic attacks. I should have thanked you for preparing my favorite pancakes whenever I craved one. I should have thanked you for learning the lyrics and singing my old-time favorites, La vie en rose and Auld lang syne with your ukelele. I should have thanked you for standing up for me in my absence. I should have thanked you when you tried to change people's opinion of me, not that I care about it. I should have thanked you for all those lazy afternoons and coffee. I should have thanked you for accepting my need to have silent hours and giving me the space whenever needed. I should have thanked you for putting up with my temper tantrums. I should have thanked you for tolerating my OCD. I should have thanked you for each and every small thing you did to bring a smile to my face. So, THANK YOU, baby doll for being you and part of me. 

I remember all the places we wanted to visit. And I promise you I will visit those places and leave something behind to indicate a fulfilled promise. Every time I use a harsh tone during my self-talk, I am reminded of one of your best advice to be mindful of the tone of my inner speech. Just to let you know, I am way softer and kinder to myself now. I am taking good care of myself in the way you always wanted me to. You should know that I have given up the one and only vice of my life. Your passing transformed me into one of those old women who are obsessed with chanting mantras (I know it's hard to believe but it is what it is). I cannot listen to podcasts and watch YouTube videos of Miles Carter without tearing up. No matter how hard it is for me, I force myself through indescribable agony to feel closer to you. But I have stopped our rituals of watching tarot reading videos. 

It's been seven months. There isn't a single day when I don't think of you. I keep you in my good thoughts and prayers. Wherever you are, I hope you are happy and your precious soul is at peace.

P.S.: I look for a sign from you at every possible chance. Send me a sign that you are doing fine wherever you are. You are loved and remembered!