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Friday, 23 September 2011

Fireflies (IX- Sisters)


She then looked at me and asked I could get her some colors. She wanted to paint. She wanted to try hard once again to fight her way back and I knew it was for you. I brought her all the paints and stuffs she needed. Grace had started to paint. Back after so long, I saw my little grace play with colors. I prayed every day for her and hoped for some miracle.

One night I was reading in my room when I heard her call my name. She was in her room painting. I ran to see she standing next to her canvas asking me how was the painting. She had tried painting you and her. She also told me about all the details that she had tried to add on to the canvas. But all I saw some randomly applied colors on canvas with nothing that made sense. I felt that a portion of me die that night looking at her that way. But I dint let her know anything. Instead we sat down hours after that talking about you and how wonderfully she had put them all in a beautiful piece.

My child, I don’t want to open up old wounds but I felt you need to know Grace after you left. But I don’t want to remember her as a person who was not in a sound mind. Instead I want you to remember her as a person who loved you the most on earth but never could let that out. She received all of your letters that you used to write to her. despite her best attempts not to reply, she sometimes used to sit and write pages and then never send them. She believed that it was for your own safety. I tried talking her into sending them but she wouldn’t. 

Not all days were bad. We did share some good days too. Most of those were when we used to sit and recollect our childhood or talk about you. every year she used to keep a track of which class you would be in. she used to tell me the kind of sports you would have chosen at school. That you would be surrounded by pretty girls who would have been mesmerized by your talks.  She wanted to see you graduate. She had plans for the party she would keep that night of your graduation. We used to sit and talk hours about how we would redecorate the entire house and celebrate.

That you would fall in love. She wanted to be there in case your heart was ever broken but she was quite sure that nobody would let go of such a loving handsome boy. She used to tell me stories of how it would be when you come back in search of her after your college. How she would ask you to leave and yet you would insist and fight with her to let you stay. How you both would spend nights talking about all the years she missed watching you grow. She was hoping if you would write a diary for her. That you would find a nice girl and marry. How she would be running around helping the guests. Your kids and the talks about you never seemed to end. 

I hope you understand why I love Casy more is because I am sure if Grace was alive she would have spoilt her more than her own mother. Grace wanted to teach your kids all that things that she missed teaching you. She wanted to live her motherhood through you and your family again. I still remember how keenly she would wait for your letters and how much she cried when you had stopped writing. She tried really hard my child. She tried very hard to fight her inner voices and demons that kept her away from you for she loved you. I am so sure that if there was anything that she could have done to keep you with her she would have done it. There wasn’t a single day when she has missed you out on her prayers. Never been a single day that she had not spent hours talking to your pictures. In spite her illness getting worse she never gave upon life. 

I still remember the day when I saw her outside standing in front of the house worried and about o cry. When I went to her and asked she showed me a coin on the street and said that the coin was talking to her. Asking her not to abandon it like she abandoned you but she couldn’t pick it up because it was facing tails side. It seems she was standing out for hours together hoping if it would flip and fall on the head side so that she could pick it up. She was crying because she dint want to ask anybody else to do it and neither could she touch the coin otherwise because the voices wouldn’t let her. I can never forget that day when she looked at me so helplessly hoping if I would flip the coin for her. I did and it was then she picked the coin and kissed it all the way back. She asked me so many times in between if she was a bad mother and that she had not abandoned you or the coin either. 


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