Una canción desesperada - a song of despair

It was the evening of Mother's day and I was at my mum's for dinner. We were just about  done with a scrumptious meal and the telephone rang. I received heartbreaking news - A beautiful woman, a gifted teacher, a loving wife and the doting mother of two beautiful girls, had been taken from this world. My maternal grandma, who is the oldest of four siblings had lost the youngest and the only other survivor of the brood. Grandma cried with the initial shock, but, being the strong woman that she is, she got a hold of her self and we collectively began to reminisce ....

Granny remembered carrying her sister, fondly called Paapa (baby), as a little child and being a surrogate mother to her. They come from a family that loves movies, and now that the 🐈 is out of the bag, you know where I get the obsession from. I would get reviews of latest releases whenever Paapa and I would speak. Anyone who knew her would never forget her easy and radiant smile that was always waiting to burst forth and which could light up the darkest corners. Paapa was classy and always dressed to perfection, an epitome of elegance and good taste. She was an amazing cook and she prepared finger-licking good fish pickles, biryanis - to name a few favorites. She never hesitated to part with recipes when asked. She had a green thumb and a little thriving garden to prove that. She never hesitated to give of her time, advice or help. She was always a patient teacher. Being an avid reader she introduced me to my now favorite crime writer.
And she was married to the love of her life with whom she had spent 50 glorious years. They shared a true passion - travelling. These globe-trotters had many beautiful stories and pictures of their adventures together. She was a wonderful homemaker with a beautiful home filled with souvenirs and she was always kind enough to remember her family and would thoughtfully pick something up for everyone.

Her niece gave a touching eulogy, likening Paapa to an angel - an angel who had flitted into our lives, an angel who lived like one and with a gentle whisper of her wings, when she was called she flitted away like one.
There was no time to prepare for the days ahead making it an uphill task for the family.

Being a fan of Pablo Neruda I am fond of this particular poem:
When I die I want your hands on my eyes:

a new dawn, a new hope, a new life

I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands

to pass their freshness over me one more time

to feel the smoothness that changed my destiny.

I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep,

I want for your ears to go on hearing the wind,

for you to smell the sea that we loved together

and for you to go on walking the sand where we walked.

I want for what I love to go on living

and as for you I loved you and sang you above everything,

for that, go on flowering, flowery one,

so that you reach all that my love orders for you,

so that my shadow passes through your hair,

so that they know by this the reason for my song.

 --Pablo Neruda, Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada. Cien Sonetos de Amor. Plaza y Janés. Ave Fénix 205-2. Sexta edición, junio 1998. 

Keeping the family in our prayers .. 

                                                                                            Pic By Jessica Jones