Nine Octobers Ago

It was a hot August day in Paris. Mother and I were aboard the Seine river cruise. As usual whenever we passed under a bridge, hands down in the cruise and up on the bridge waved to each other. Someone up there threw something down, and many on the boat tried to catch it, but it fell exactly in the lap of my mother. It was a pendant attached to a whitish string. Virgin Mary was on one side and the cross on the other. 

Eight years later, my sisters found it with Mama's jewelry after she passed away. They didn't know where it came from and were surprised to find it  (given the different religious belief) I was surprised too that she maintained it all these years. A matter of superstition maybe. 

Mama passed away this month 9 years ago. 

Months

January:

She pointed her finger at the two men standing at the street corner and said “They are selling drugs. Do they sell drugs in the streets in your country too?” I calmly replied “No, we don’t do that. We are God-fearing people. We do it behind doors” She smiled and accelerated the car in the direction of Rout 101.

As she later proceeded to point out at certain homes and mention the names of their celebrity owners, I felt it was sort of pathetic. If it was not for the company I had, I would have never taken this tour.

February:

The moment we got used to the new rhythm, a newer rhythm started to be audible.

March:

Ex-lovers become friends, colleagues turn into lovers and sex buddies evolve into lovers. Love, sex and friendship cross, overlap, fight and sometimes just sign a peace agreement.

April, May, June and July: 

* The longest time I went without watching TV. I have never been a TV person, but I haven't stayed that long before without feeling the urge to watch it.

* New land and old faces.

* No matter how close we might think we are to someone, there are sometimes black holes we have to ignore or pretend we do not see.

August:

Silence is all we dread

There’s Ransom in a Voice –

But Silence is Infinity.

Himself have not a face.

                                     Emily Dickinson