Chapter 15 – Letting go

The contact with my sister and my friends weren’t constant. I missed them, but I loved what I was doing.

I had been in Southern India, in the impoverished area in the Krishnagiri district of Tamil Nadu for 3 months. I was volunteering at the Baldev Medical and Community Centre which serves 17 villages surrounding Tamil Nadu and Karnataka. The Centre had been founded by the George Foundation and thanks to my friendship with someone who had previously volunteered for them, it had been easy helping out. Currently I was building houses for poor villagers with other volunteers.

The smile and the gratitude of the people was all I needed to keep going on. I didn’t want to disappoint them.

The generosity they displayed could warm your heart. They did not mind sharing their food or giving you one of their mattresses to sleep on. They deprived themselves to make us feel comfortable. Seeing people living for less than a dollar per day and being so good made me feel ashamed of how Western societies wasted money and refused to help others when they were in a difficult situation.

This experience was teaching me so many things. The local population was teaching me and the other volunteers Tamil. I knew I wanted to do something when I went back to New York and eventually to a nation of my choice in Europe. However, I had no clue if I even wanted to go back working for Francesco as financial director. I could just start a NGO and help out. But did I really want to go back? In case I decided to do so, I knew I would take time out every now and then to come back to India and give my help wherever it was needed.

Depending on where I were I could either have internet and exchange emails or have correspondence via mail. Recently I’d stayed in a village with no electricity so I had to wait to go to a city to answer my friends and my sister’s emails. I even received a letter for my father asking me to call him when I could.

I didn’t.

Allegra was always on my mind but the pain I felt was nothing when compared to the villagers’ worry of not having the money to feed their families. I was lucky. I didn’t have to go through a horrible arranged marriage, I received a great education, I had family and friends who had a more than a comfortable life. My problems didn’t matter. There were bigger issues in the World that my little broken-heart.

I just wished I could share all this with her. But I’d made a decision, and I was going to stick with it.

I decided that I was going to discuss things with my psychologist again. Lalita always wanted to help me but she recognized that I needed my space. I updated her by email, though. And I also found occasionally time to skype with her.

I wasn’t aware of having a low self-esteem due to the constant verbal abuse I endured since I was 16.

I thought about my mother a lot in the long days I spent under the burning sun building houses,  teaching English to children, playing with them and help when it came to give them vaccinations. I missed her when I saw how mothers held their children and loved them.

She had been my sunshine for 16 years until she died protecting me . I still felt guilty, I still wished she didn’t do it but I knew that she wanted to do it. She wanted to save my life. And I loved her. I just wished I could let her know.

Hopefully she was proud of me. That’s all I was asking for.

I remember her eyes, the same as mine and her gleeful smile when she used to play with me and my sister. Her red long wavy hair moving because of the wind.

I would fall asleep with her picture hugged to me. How I wished she was there with me and help me through the motion of life.

I didn’t know what to do with my father. Lalita advised I should give a thought to talk to him at least so that I didn’t have to hold up to the resentment I felt.

I hated and still loved him even after all he had done to me. My love for him was based on how he loved me and treated me before Mom died. He was the best father ever. His eyes shone anytime he saw me and we used to spend so much time together going to football and basketball games, even going to play gold together. We played chess, and my dad taught me a lot of things. My life wasn’t predetermined and I could entertain the thought of doing whatever I wanted to do in life.

We were a happy family. And then it came all crashing down on the day my mom was taking me out for our weekly picnic.

17 years earlier

We were coming back from the park, I was holding the basket.

“I don’t like her.” She pouted.

“Mom, come on. She’s not that bad.”

“I have to admit that she looks beautiful but she’s such an air-head. You can do so much better Chris.”

“Mom, you know that I love you. You’re the best of the best, and I’ll never find a woman better than you.” I kissed her cheek and took her hand in mine.

She grinned back. Happy that she could see this side of me when no one was around.

“I love you too, baby.” She hugged me and then we resumed walking.

“I can’t believe you’re all grown now. I know you want to do medicine. Are you still up for studying at least 10 more years?”

“Yes. I want to do something different and then maybe spend a few years working with the Red Cross or the Army. I want to help.” My eyes full of hope. I had started volunteering for a local clinic and I loved it.

We were crossing the road and then we heard it. A car approaching too fast. Less than 10 seconds I had to look at my mother face morphed in pure horror. She shoved me to the side of the road and she went in front of the car.

She fell unnaturally after being hit by the car that couldn’t brake fast enough.

“Mom.” I screamed.

The driver of the car got out and called 991.

I went by her side and took her in my arms.

“Mom, mom!” I exclaimed

“Son…” she whispered. She tried to smile.

“Don’t you dare die on me. You still have to see me and Krissi grow up and fulfill our dreams. You have to stay here with me.” I cried, already seeing her becoming weaker by the second.

She started to cough up blood. For what I knew, probably a rib had damaged her lung.

“I love you. Tell them that I love them…” and then she closed her eyes. Life abandoned her but I couldn’t believe it.

I performed CPR.

“Mom!!!” I yelled. She was gone and it was all my fault.

The nightmares started once again. The nightmare of her dying in my arms. I had to do something about them, and only writing down my feelings and sensations was making things better.

After my mother’s death, dreams of me going to study medicine were shattered by my father ordering me to study economics and take care of the family business. The endless time spent together ended, and was replaced by verbal and sometime physical abuse.

My mother’s relatives lived far away so they didn’t know the situation was so bad. And plus, father cut all relationships with them.

I was alone. Cornered.

But it was not important anymore. I was free from my father’s grip.

I sighed, as I stood outside the house I was staying at in those days. It was the residence of a rich businessman and his family  the Kapoors.

They were nice and devoted much of their time to charity.

“What’s wrong, beta?” Ashna, the mother of the family said as she stood next to me.

“Nothing, Mam.” I smiled at her, knowing very well that she could see through my lie. I caller her mother because she became upset if I didn’t.

“You have to let go of all this anger you feel, beta. You need to if you want to be truly free.” She said and caressed my arm.

“I know. But it’s really hard.” I told her.

“Yes, it is. But you will find peace. Release the anger and forgive. Resentment can eat someone’s heart.”

“You’re right. I need to let go. I need to stop being angry when I think about my father, or Allegra, or anyone else who hurt me in the past.” My voice trembled with sentiment.

“Don’t forget. But find in your heart the strength to get past all that and forgive. You have a big heart.”

She hugged me as the first sobs came about. She kissed my forehead. I knew she couldn’t be my mom, but Ashna was making me feel like home.