My Jetlag is a blessing in disguise. I get a lot more time in hand than usual. I can spend time with people who stay up late and then wake up early to chat with early risers.
My sister in law has two sons, they work till late so they were my late night companions. We chatted after their work hours. My sister in law and Mother in law are early risers so I could enjoy their company without any interruptions.
I woke up earlier than usual , tried but just couldn’t sleep so came downstairs only to find my MIL waking up. We were having fun talking about our saree organizing saga a day before.
When my sister in law started her morning prayers my MIL and I decided to go for a short walk. It was a beautiful morning with a light breeze and not many people on the road. We found a place to sit and I am glad we did. The two of us sat on a bench and memories took the form of words. Her childhood, her life with her younger siblings, about her parents, then marriage and life with my father in law. She talked about happy and not so happy days, loss of a child, the joy of raising 3 wonderful children, the struggles she went though in her life, my father in law’s sickness and many more personal stories. As I was telling her about my mom and her wishes, I asked her what would she want to do and to my surprise my mother in law is very content with whatever she has. Very firm in her beliefs and hopes to go to the other world peacefully and quietly. She doesn’t need much and is just spending her time with prayers. She showed me some of her writings/Prayers( bhajans) she wrote.
I have been married to her son for more than 26 years and today I had a glimpse of a different world. She did open up and talked about her views on rituals performed after death and what is important to her. I don’t think her own kids have had that conversation with her. I am leaving today with the hope that I come back soon to spend more time with her. We both have come a long way and one thing binds us together even more - the love for the man we have in common.
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