For my son

One day, when you can read, you will read these words.  I looked at your face as you watched her cough.  I have never seen your eyes so large or so black as you looked upon her beloved face.  For a moment, I wondered if you had seen that look on my face.  I have tried to conceal it from you.  You climbed into my arms and told me she’ll stay forever.  I wanted to believe you. 

Did you know that she was there the day you were born?  She watched you enter the world and cried with relief when you finally took your first breath.  She said you were the gift that God had given her before taking her own mother away. 

You might not remember but she taught you your first words despite what your father says.  You spoke her tongue first before you uttered a single word of English.  She taught you how to love real food when you were but a baby.  Her arms held you and loved you every minute you had in her presence.  You were her “Dadabhai.”  She wanted to take you to Disney world.  I’ll have to do that for her now.  She was supposed to make you monster pajamas.  I’ll have to figure out how. 

The other day you said to me that you wished we had seen her house first.  But I know you wouldn’t love it half as much if it wasn’t her house.  As much as you’re going to miss walking into her home and going to the kitchen with her to get something to eat, I’m going to miss walking into her house and just calling out her name.  I hope the house holds enough good memories to wipe away all the bad ones you’ll have.  She’s not only leaving me, but she’s leaving you too.  She was my mother before she was ever your Dida.  May you always remember how much she loved you during the short span of time that she was in your life. 

Even as my connection to her is slowly being severed, know that you have been my life line in all this, you and your brother.  Your laughter and love is the only thing that’s keeping me from drowning. 

As I write this, I’m unsure how to tell you that your grandmother is going to leave you to go be with Jesus forever.  How do I explain that to you?  I’m sorry.  It wasn’t in any of those parenting manuals that I didn’t read.