Tossing and turning, trying to concentrate on her breathing was not working again tonight. Misha finally gave up and tried to get out of the bed. It was only 3:30 am. She felt empty inside yet full of emotions. Her eyes hurt from the constant crying. She put some eye drops sitting up in the bed and again trying to take long breathes. It was her mom’s idea every time she felt anxious, sad or angry, to just breathe in and breathe out.
She finally gathered herself and stood up. Looking out at the pictures on her night stand she felt her heavy heart craving to be with her mom. It had been like this every night since her mom passed away a year ago. the only growth she had made so far was not feeling angry for losing her. Even though it was a sudden illness and then a fatal heart attack that killed her, Misha had accepted the reality. It was the loneliness that was hurting her now. Her body craved for one more warm hug. Her ears yearned to hear her singing in the kitchen while cooking. It was her mom’s vibrant personality the reason why Misha never tried too hard to make friends. She was too content and happy in her relationship with her mom to try any more than needed to hold on to people in her life.
But this was too much now. She could no longer live like this. Without proper sleep, her work was now getting affected. Her colleagues had been quite accommodating with the change in her attitude and lack of presence in the office. But it could not go on like this any longer. There would be a moment when everyone would just give up on her. For the world, it had been a year and being depressed over a dead person for this long-held no relevance anymore. She could feel people rolling their eyes at her each time she turned in late for work. So today she decided to take control and accept the emptiness in her heart. The one that will never be full because her “person” was dead.
She needed to figure out a way to live in this world where her mom only existed in memories. Her heart was broken no doubt, but it still had hope. And so, she took another deep breath, remembering yoga sessions with her mom. And just for a second, she smiled, through the tears.
She now washed her face trying hard to scrub her eyes off the dried ones and got ready in her running clothes. Walking towards the door she smiled one more time thinking “this would make her happy”.
It was still a bit early for anyone to be in the park. But Misha was ready. For the first time, she felt in control of herself. Putting on her earplugs she texted her dad. A simple “good morning” text like her mom did every morning without fail. And then she started. She felt at ease while running. Her mind and heart were all in sync with her breathes. And just like that, she lost the feeling of being alone when she saw her shadow right next to hers. In that badly lit park, she saw it all too clearly.
Mom had always been her running buddy and she was not going to break that tradition today. Not when her daughter needed her the most.
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 