It was a regular crazy busy weekday evening. I rushed from my workplace to pick up both kids, one after another. Upon reaching home, I fixed the kids a quick snack, made coffee for my dad and myself and flung myself immediately into the exercise of preparing dinner.
It was only a few months after my mother's very sudden departure. Every second the four of us - we three sisters and my dad ached and grieved in a way that words cannot describe. My older sister's and my thoughts swayed between our kid sister who was a resident student still in school, thousands of miles away and our frail, guileless dad whose entire universe was my mom. Despite my very demanding routine, I hurt so bad, even breathing felt like a difficult chore - poisonous air filling my lungs and leaving them continuously!
The opening of the garage door mingled with the pressure cooker whistles and general din in the kitchen. The kids ran toward the garage calling out "appa! appa!" greeting their dad with excitement. My dad joined them also, saying "appa!, appa!" Surprised, I asked my dad " Is he appa for you too?"
My father responded " He bought me tee shirt, razors and walking shoes. He takes me to the temple. He bought me medicines when I had a cold. He feeds me, clothes me and takes care of me. So, yes, he is my appa!"
I had to sit down for a couple of minutes to handle that answer. My throat was dry, my breathing heavy and I simply couldn't bring words out of my overflowing heart!
I had heard sons-in-law being referred to as sons by their fathers-in-law. But this, came as a surprise. Didn't know whether to marvel at my dad's beautiful interpretation or at my husband's little acts of kindness and affection that won over my dad's heart.
Without flowers or surprise gifts, without jewelry or candlelight dinner, my husband had given me such a sweet feeling - I realized that evening that I had definitely transitioned from a girl to a woman.
Caught in the crossfire of love, I relished the last sip from my cup of coffee and proceeded to finish making dinner.
It was only a few months after my mother's very sudden departure. Every second the four of us - we three sisters and my dad ached and grieved in a way that words cannot describe. My older sister's and my thoughts swayed between our kid sister who was a resident student still in school, thousands of miles away and our frail, guileless dad whose entire universe was my mom. Despite my very demanding routine, I hurt so bad, even breathing felt like a difficult chore - poisonous air filling my lungs and leaving them continuously!
The opening of the garage door mingled with the pressure cooker whistles and general din in the kitchen. The kids ran toward the garage calling out "appa! appa!" greeting their dad with excitement. My dad joined them also, saying "appa!, appa!" Surprised, I asked my dad " Is he appa for you too?"
My father responded " He bought me tee shirt, razors and walking shoes. He takes me to the temple. He bought me medicines when I had a cold. He feeds me, clothes me and takes care of me. So, yes, he is my appa!"
I had to sit down for a couple of minutes to handle that answer. My throat was dry, my breathing heavy and I simply couldn't bring words out of my overflowing heart!
I had heard sons-in-law being referred to as sons by their fathers-in-law. But this, came as a surprise. Didn't know whether to marvel at my dad's beautiful interpretation or at my husband's little acts of kindness and affection that won over my dad's heart.
Without flowers or surprise gifts, without jewelry or candlelight dinner, my husband had given me such a sweet feeling - I realized that evening that I had definitely transitioned from a girl to a woman.
Caught in the crossfire of love, I relished the last sip from my cup of coffee and proceeded to finish making dinner.
