Brownness

Holiday Meaning

HDR Guru Gobind Singh procession
HDR Guru Gobind Singh procession (Photo credit: NightFall404)

I am not sure what it is about the Holidays that seems to bring out the best and worst in people. What I really mean is Desis since we actually don’t celebrate Christmas. Oh sure, we can pretend Diwali is a big deal, and we also throw in their Guru Gobind Singh‘s ji celebration, but really I still don’t get what is about the holidays that gets us so emotional.   Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe everyone is going on as they should, and I am the one that is calling out motivations that are there. Confused? Good.  So am I.

I am still on a high about some of my family doing the Thanksgiving Trot with me, and making Tiramisu and cream cheese bites for that gathering.  Yes, it’s these little things that get me excited because, let’s face it, I am not getting any younger. I may still feel like I am 21, but the fact is, I am not up on the music, the culture, or really anything to do with being 21 (well maybe, the drinking) including going out or wearing the right clothes (according to my wife, I dress like a 45-year-old which I take to be a compliment).   Yet each day, I am thankful for the life I have. I am  grateful that I can get out of bed, take my dog for a walk, enjoy the slightly  chilly morning, and then do a few other set things like meditating and praying to get my day going.

I am still struggling though. There isn’t a day that I don’t get a reminder that I am not 100% or the person I used to be prior to my surgery. But you know what, that’s OK. I know I am doing my best, and some days that’s all that matters. So this Holiday has a special meaning for me because there was a chance I couldn’t be here to celebrate them. There are some in my life who I wish had stayed, and there are others that are drifting (and that’s OK).  So I wake up each morning, and take a few minutes just to be thankful for all that I have. And that’s enough for now.

Myself

To My Mom: A Blog Post

Mother's Day
Image via Wikipedia
by Jemal Yarbrough

This Mother’s day, I failed to give my mom material gifts, failed to organize a brunch at a 5 star restaurant, failed to even give her a card, instead all I had to offer her was my undying love expressed through the beautiful words of my nieces who did write wonderful cards to their mothers. As she sat there, and heard aloud their words, I sorely wished my mom could hear how their words were all of ours.  How 2 sixteen year old’s  managed to capture all of our angst, hurt sorrow and love.    We shared just a few hours with mom, letting her know how much she means to us when in reality if we could spend the rest of our lives thanking her, it would not be enough.

I haven’t made it easy for her, from the sicknesses to my idealistic business plans, it’s always been something out of the norm, and yet she has accept each and every single instance in my life with grace I can only dream to pass onto my children.  Her patience, seemingly limitless, her faith undying, but most of all, her love, always there for the taking with nothing expected in return.  It amazes me how much she takes on a daily basis, and always seems ready for more, weakness something that doesn’t seem to exist in her, strength and love her weapons of choice.

It used to be easy to buy her expensive gifts to show her how much I loved her until it hit me that a single heartfelt hug did more for her than a $2000 LV bag ever could.  Even in gifts, she managed to teach that the only ones of value are the ones that come from the heart regardless of cost.

Thank you mom, for always teaching, for always being there but most of all, for always loving me defects and all.  I love you