Today 32 years ago..mum left on her journey to her creator, after battling with cancer...leukaemia that is what it is termed today...But way back in 1978 'Cancer' itself was unheard off.
Mum was a quite, soft spoken lady. Mathematics, I think was her strong point. She was the only daughter, born on the 6th of August, 1926, christined Esperance Borges, I could tell her brothers, especially Uncle Agustine, really cared much for her.
I do not have too many memories of my mum, they seem to have blocked out...but oh yeah all the goodies she prepared for tea time especially. I do remember that I was in the IV std (1977) when I got chicken pox and received my 1st holy communion the same year. I recovered and the rest of the family took their turns, but mum...mum's pox never got cured...We even thought it was small pox..Until sometime during the summer holidays of the following year, we took her to Dr. Vaidya, just down the road and who's clinic still stands, who said she had to be admitted into hospital.
I cannot recall the date of her being admitted, but I vaguely remember it to be the month of May, during the novena's to Mary Help of Christians. I also remember Grace Reuben being born the 31st of May that year. I faintly remember my visits to the hospital to see her.
The machines are what kept mummy's heart pumping and alive after she had slipped into a coma. The doctors had said she was in the final stages of cancer...blood cancer...It never made sense to me...
I remember returning home from the hospital after the evening visit, that year my school results saw me detained in class V. I was at my neighbors place right opposite from our door, when the news of mum passing away reached me. Not that it made sense to me. Ten year old in our day and time hardly would have known what Death really meant.
Dad, Joe Rozario, born on 20th January, 1915, the second born of four, I could not tell, and will not know how shaken he was with the news...I guess he must have known the inevitable...Death was sure to come...none knew when...
Dad lived on 14years after mum passed away, when he returned to his maker on Nov 5th, 1992...He never showed us his real true feelings (men generally don't) at the loss, irrespective of what may have been the closeness of the relationship. Am sure there would have been good times and like all families, the bad ones too...sometimes the bad remain etched in our memory...But it's the bad that become learning examples and experiences for the rest that follow, from none other than the best institution HOME. No counselling, no shrink, no book, no school will teach you what YOU learn from the experiences at HOME.
On the lighter side I remember my dad's favourite song...
No he did not drink to get drunk or like alcoholics do...he contained his drink very well. We just had to curb it once diabeties got the better of him... This then we would hear more often.
Though just a verse...it went like this...
Am not very fond of whiskey
But just a tiny drop
And when I start to drink it
I don't know when to stop
When the bottle is empty
My poor old throat runs dry
Looking at the empty bottle
Tears roll down my eyes
Goodbye whiskey, farewell to you...
In this world there is none like you...