Mother's Day and Expressing Love

Mother’s Day

Mother’s day has passed- Loosely translated, in Nepal, mother’s day is called “mother’s face watching day”; meaning- a day to visit mother and worship her. Mostly popular for married daughters coming to visit their mothers, this day brings a sense of worthiness in mothers, who are otherwise underrated.

Most mothers are looking forward to this day that has been attributed to them. Mothers expect some return of their loving and caring. For a long time, I was stupid enough to not grasp the idea of ‘why love has to be demonstrated?’ I even argued enough on the topic. It was not until I started feeling lonely, living abroad without the presence of my mother and especially grandmother, that I realized the value of showing and expressing love.  I had attributed my hyper sensitive, over caring, extra cautious mother’s behavior to be some kind of abnormal happening. I had no idea that I was an introvert kid with overgrown brain.

My very first memory of my mother is an incident where my mother took me to a dentist to extract a tooth. She thought I didn’t tell her that the tooth was loose and then it got stronger again. She would not trust me when I said she was imagining things. She was so scared and told me –“now a fang will grow from that same place and it will be really ugly.’ When the dentist saw and heard me, he believed me. He nicely but firmly scolded my mother and send us home. My mother was embarrassed but was laughing about it, and still does when I revive the story, once in a while. She worried too much. She was extra protective and overly cautious. All mothers are and sometimes, it was annoying. But, they are made like that. That’s what supposed to happen. 

On the contrary, my grandmother was my carefree self-made dentist or should I say ‘tooth extractor’. She pulled all my teeth when it was time. She was good at it. I remember neighbors, and cousins coming to her to extract tooth who were scared of their dentists. I have only two visits to a real dentist in my life, both were in childhood, both were painful and unnecessary, both brought undesired results and both were forced upon me. Since then, I have been lucky and as they say ‘knock on wood’, I like that record to hold till death. Funny thing is- all my grandmother’s teeth were gone by the time she was in her late 40s. She had dentures and we used to be excited to see her maneuver those around for our amusement after we begged her to.  Otherwise, she was not much of a demonstrationist. I think I got most of behavioral learning from her. She was not fond of kids, and she was not shy about it. She didn’t fake annoyance. For instance, we all used were so fond of her, and would like to spend few hours talking with her in her room after dinner. Someday, when she would not really be mood to talk, she would eat quickly and come downstairs to her room, lock the door and sleep. When we go to her room and knock, she used to say- “I am already in bed, you guys! Go sleep.” We just used to laugh and go to our rooms. She was a deep observer of people’s behavior, and later, used to be critical about it. She used to nick name people. She interpreted dreams and really believed that they signify something more important in real life. She was shy, but she was not unsocial. 

I see so much of her features reflecting on me daily. I think I spent most of my childhood with her than my mother. My mother was always busy, plus overly cautious and talkative, in a sense that she would romanticize simple matters of family and would exaggerate stories, not for causing trouble though, she just tried to sweeten it as much as she could. She was more creative. In other side, my grandmother was a realist, not too dramatic. She loved but didn’t much demonstrate. She didn’t vocalize her worried, grieves and care for her children that much. She used to get involved without being anxious and nervous. I remember her this one time; she wanted to go see the new Disability Hospital in Banepa, some foreign project built. I had a recent knee surgery and had a follow up. I took her with me. The hospital is at a peak, uphill from my place, and we had to walk those stiff hills like we were going for trekking in Everest. With a recent surgery, I was limping, hurting, and my grandmother could not walk fast. We didn’t have car. That was all a perfect combination. We went to see my doctor; she watched the nurse cut the stiches and clean my wounds, without any hesitation. My mother probably would have fainted. Anyway, after seeing around the hospital, we were coming down the hill.  I was holding her for support so I don’t damage my knee further and I was also making sure she don’t trip and fall. Our conversation was like this:

Grandma- “Nice hospital they built, big.”

Me- “Yes. It’s a foreign project.”

“Nepali people would not, could not build this.”

“Yes”

“The nurse that removed your stiches was like a kid (bhuri was her exact word), but pretty, how old think she was?”

“19-20, she must have just come out of nursing school, she hurt me bad, I think she was inexperienced, nervous and sweating.”

“So many disables, huh? All kids have metals in their hands and feet. Poor guys… They love you though, they are fond of you”

“Yes, I was there two nights; we were about 25-30 patient in the room, all younger than me. I was the least sick among them and was making fun of nurses for their amusement.”

She laughed.

I said-“I feel lucky, they didn’t come at midnight and tighten those metal screws, going through the tibia.”

“Now, don’t play soccer anymore.”

“Yes, I think I can’t now.”

By then we were passing by a house, the small downhill path had become slippery and my legs was trembling little more.

“Budi Amai, can I take this stick from your yard? We need some help.” She asked the old woman who was sweeping her yard.

“Sure sure….I was watching both of you coming down the hill. What happened to him?” She said and gave me a good strong stick to use as a clutch.

My grandmother told her about my surgery follow up. We also drank some water from the tap.

“Is he your son or grandson?” She asked.

“My eldest grandson...”

Still ringing in my ear are my grandmother’s random yet innocent conversations. I miss her dearly. I also miss teasing her how much gifts she got from her daughters on mother’s day. I miss counting her gift money. I didn’t realize at those times, the value of demonstration of love and affection. Even though everyday should be father’s day and mother’s day, the special days designated in their names bring in action and demonstration of love and emotion. It has to be done. Vocalizing and expressing love should be taught to kids by parents. That my mother’s day insight!