Estimated reading time: 4 minutes
My mom is a sprightly, cheerful 81-year-old exemplifying the philosophy of seeing a glass half full. She migrated from Pakistan as a small child during partition, grew up in Punjab, and then came to Delhi for her studies. She is the oldest of six siblings.
Her grandfather’s far-sightedness allowed my mom to pursue a higher education that led to a long and stable career as a college professor at Delhi University. She remembers with fond nostalgia his beyond-his-times thinking towards financially supporting her education. Many families post-partition spent their meagre resources educating their sons, and rarely their daughters.
I am a direct beneficiary of an economically independent and educated mother. The advantages beyond the tangible are innumerable. Growing up in a home seeing a mother as an equal partner in all household decisions is a rarity that I took for granted, but have begun appreciating more with age and with hearing the experiences of others.
My mother lives in New Delhi and is the primary caretaker of my 87-year-old dad. They are financially secure and physically independent. We keep in touch via regular phone calls, text messages, and video calls. She is both people and tech-friendly.
My day begins with a cup of tea and a text or two from her. Later, I call and we talk. With my mom, I can let my guard down and speak my heart. She is my sacred space and a source of extended family and the nation’s news, worldly and philosophical wisdom, cheer, and encouragement.
She is both open-minded and open-hearted, qualities that have kept our relationship strong without generational baggage. I see that she works hard to steer clear of dogmas and prejudices about practices and times. While sharing anecdotes from the past, she not only holds on to sweet nostalgia but has often remarked that life is like a book, to be read ahead, knowing that the story will change as its pages turn.
Maybe her ability to see good in people and circumstances, and accepting changes, keeps her joyful. When I talk to friends about their varied issues with parents in their seventies and eighties, I appreciate my relationship with my mom and her pragmatic approach towards aging. I feel blessed.
While growing up, we had our ample share of disagreements, but fences were mended fast. I remember a couple of times when she and I did not speak, but she did not allow the situation to linger. In her generosity of spirit, she taught me the lessons of perspective, listening, understanding, apologizing, and letting go.
As I lead my own mothering journey on a different continent, a few decades later, I appreciatively recall her handling of situations. Over the years and happenings, I have gained a renewed respect for her ways, loving yet firm, with a non-negotiable approach towards respect.
One does not think about all that one has learned from one’s parents in the daily humdrum of life. But in special instances, many lessons are recalled, and some come full circle. As I tread forward as a parent, I remember how my mother handled several similar tricky situations with me and my brother.
My mom has always been generous with her time, resources, and energy. She is effortlessly gregarious with everyone, from helpers at home to street hawkers. Unlike in my youth, my appreciation of her friendly demeanor is enhanced and my daughters tell me I am very friendly to strangers – I can strike up small talk with ease.
How unknowingly we become our mothers. Is that how our parents live through us forever? I hope I have inherited her positivity and generosity, and I am able to keep those traits as I age.
I know time will tell, but on this Mother’s Day while feeling blessed and happy to have been raised by a mom who taught me to think, keep perspective, talk, listen and pardon myself and others to move ahead, I also wish to be an example to my daughters and a place of comfort and wisdom in their times of need.