On Wednesday, February 17, of 2021, around 11:30 in the night (Pacific time), I got the worst call of my life.
My younger brother called me from India and cried out, “Didi! Papa is not responding.” That night, I saw my father for the last time on a video call.
My father took away the rainbow of my life with him. Together with that, he took away my happiness; the proof being in real rainbows. I have not seen one since then.
I tried to occupy myself in multiple initiatives to forget the pain and to deny the fact that my father was gone. It was painful to accept this truth. I wished to do a lot for my father. I hoped to fulfill all his wishes, and to make him content and happy.
A few days after my father’s demise, I was looking at the rain through my window. I announced, “I don’t want to see a rainbow again. I hate it. Life is a lie.”
Little did I know my daughter was standing right behind me. She cried and said, “Mamma! Why would you say something like that? You love to see rainbows. I like it when you act like a kid and hoot after seeing a rainbow. It makes you happy, and that makes us happy. Whenever you wished to see a rainbow, it always appeared. You enjoy rainbows more than kids. To us, you are a rainbow maker. Please don’t say that you hate the rainbow. The universe listens to you and loves you.”
My daughter was hurt. I hugged her and said, “Of course we will see a rainbow.” However, deep down, I doubted it.
Since then, my daughter has looked at me with hope whenever it has rained. She wanted me to say that I will see a rainbow today, but I kept myself busy to avoid it. I would think that if I see a rainbow again, it will somehow prove that I have forgotten my father and moved on.
I have often said to myself, “Apart from my father and my kids, if anyone loves me unconditionally, it is the Universe.”
Today, on March 28, 2022, with a heavy heart, I want to say that I am ready to accept that my father has left this world and I won’t be able to see him again. I understand now that my father’s passing away was not as bad as I imagined. Until his last few minutes, he was active and working.
I am sorry for venting out on you, Universe. Now, without a feeling of guilt, I want to feel your warmth again. I want to be that person again, who was loved by the Universe. I am ready to embrace your love once again. Let me know if you are ready too.
I want to be the same mom for my kids. I want to be a rainbow maker again for my daughter. Show me a rainbow again, my Universe.