Dear Ammu and Pattu,
The house is quiet today, kind of like the calm before the storm. I open the packages from Amazon that line my study. I sort the gifts in two piles, one for each of you. I bag it up, discard the boxes and put the bags away to be opened by you both tomorrow. This year, the celebrations are muted. A DIY cake, day off from school and boba at the local tea shop.
Both of you tower over me. I look forward to your faces each morning. I love that you hug me unabashedly, plant kisses on my cheek and are physically demonstrative. I hope I never take this for granted. Each evening, I track your phones as you come home just to make sure that I have your coffee warm and snacks fresh as you walk in the door. Every other day, I remind you to bring your dirty laundry down so I can wash, fold and set them in piles for you to take upstairs. Each weekend, I remind you of late and, overdue assignments so you know that I am tracking them.
On rare days, we walk and talk. I ask you about school and your friends. Our conversations are freewheeling. Women’s rights, cat memes, BTS edits, LGBTQIA+ allyship, relationships are all equally discussed. I am more often than not blown away by your thoughts. I love that I get to see this side of you, identities in flux, influenced equally by peers and us. Some afternoons, I open TikTok to see you share a reel with a comment. Some other days, I cry over videos you share on iMessages. Our interactions are sporadic. The joy is a constant.
Your acerbic wit astounds me at the dinner table. I am in awe of your singing voice. I am envious of the secret language you both share. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you both giggle in your rooms. I sometimes listen to the songs you have on your liked list. This time now, the liminal space as we wait for adulthood to claim you is precious. It is fleeting. If in the past, I wished I could blink and the years would fly, now, I wish these few years would slow down enough for me to imprint all of what is happening with us as a family in my brain.
I can almost imagine the three of us, a few years from now, having a drink and talking women to women. I love that one day, I can be your friend and not just your mother.
Here’s to a lovely birthday, my lovelies. Cheers!
Amma.
Leave a Reply