My maternal grandmother (Lalu is what we called her for short) was a beautiful person. I grew up visiting her in India every few years and, although she passed over a decade ago, she has always remained a role model to me. She had a way about her that was peaceful, wise, and connected. She devoted herself to social work, tirelessly helping destitute women and kids off the street in India, and was an accomplished English scholar too. But most of all, she had a loving presence that shone from the inside out, through her sweet smile and twinkling eyes. For my most recent birthday (which was several months ago), my mother passed on two poems that my grandmother passed on to her. The first one, entitled To My Grown-Up Son is something I can really relate to, during this particular time in my life–a time when I am trying to stay afloat in getting through each chaotic, zany, crazy, fun, exhausting and precious day with two little ones at home (at the time of writing this post, my older son is almost 3 and my baby is 9 months old). On those days when my patience is being tested, the dishes are piled up, my clothes are being tugged at by a whining, grubby toddler or a wailing baby, I am sleep deprived and exhausted like never before and on the brink of SNAPPING at my kids in UTTER FRUSTRATION (ahhhhh! mothers with young kids–I’m sure you know what I’m talking about here!); I glimpse into the future to a time when I will no longer have my little boys jumping on and around me and vying for Mommy. And then…I pause…and take a moment to just truly BE with them in the present moment. I wouldn’t trade that moment for anything in the world.
I would love to hear your thoughts on the poem. Can you relate and if so, how? Do you have any strategies for dealing with the pull of the day-to-day duties that must get done while also making the most of your precious time with your loved ones? Stay tuned for next week’s blog post where I will share the second poem that Lalu passed on to my mother (my apologies as I do not have the sources of these old clippings).