 
by Chintha Hewage
She hadn’t uttered a word about
it for two days. She had embraced the news quite placidly as though she
had already known it. She hadn’t even shed a single drop of tear but
advised us.
She had immense strength and ordered us to take necessary action.
Steve spent the whole day reduced to a chair pondering or
occasionally weeping. She ignored him and patted Mona, his wife on her
shoulder saying that he had always been Daddy’s boy.
We were all exhausted at the end of the day walking here and there
attending to visitors supressing our emotional weakness. But she seemed
to have gained super powers out of nowhere. She walked briskly to the
rooms, to the kitchen or answered a phone call and consoled with
callers.
“He is surely resting in peace and we should be happy for him!”
Mona and I pretended that we didn’t hear her and were submerged in
our conversation of ‘how everything went well’.
Sometimes it pricked my heart to suspect whether it really didn’t
matter to her. May be she didn’t love him at all. She did her duty as a
mere wife and that was all. She didn’t even confide in anyone that she
missed him or she loved him so much that she couldn’t live without him.
All she said was that she was happy for him because he was
in peace and out of pain.
Steve fell asleep on the chair. Mona suggested we should have some
coffee for Mom was reduced to a chair, reading one of dad’s favourite
books. It was unusual to see Mom reading a collection of short stories
of Roald Dahl for she was not a fan of what Dad had read. Mom was
perfectly happy with Austen.
The atmosphere was getting thicker and Mona realised that the grudge
building up inside me was about to burst. We had coffee for a few
minutes listening to the clock ticking and occasionally a bat flapping
its wings.
 Then, Mona looked up at my abrupt question to Mom. “Aren’t you sad
Mom?” I didn’t want to suppress my loath towards her light attitude.
To my astonishment, Mom smiled serenely.
“Why should I?”
“What do you mean why should you? He is no more.”
“I should be happy for him. I’m not selfish.”
“What?”
“I can’t be sad for losing him. If I’m sad, I’m worried about me, not
him. That is selfishness.”
Mona looked from Mom to me and again at Mom unable to comprehend what
would happen next. However, she squeezed my hand at my attempt to reply
Mom again.
She had never acted like this before. She used to be a stormy
character. She would yell, she would cry, she would laugh and never was
quiet. She couldn’t be in a shocked state for her expression was calm
and peaceful.
The only explanation I could give was that ‘she had come out of it so
easily and had forgotten him so easily.’ After another somber blue hour,
Mom went to bed leaving my
sister-in-law and me with my sleeping brother in the living room.
Another few minutes passed in the same blue atmosphere. Then we glanced
at each other terrified for we had heard a sudden sob cracking the
silence.
We turned to look at Steve but he was fast asleep. Again the sob came
louder than before making Steve as well, wake up. We ran to Mom’s room
and stopped dead thunderstruck.
 She was weeping hysterically clutching his nightshirt, shaking
vigorously and uncontrollably sitting on the floor at the foot of the
bed. She was hugging and kissing the shirt as though it was the only
life support she had. Steve was the first to come out of the trauma. He
sat next to her trying to hold her while Mona and I gaped horrified. Mom
looked up from Steve’s shoulder and addressed us.
“What if…… what if,…….he is missing me? What if….. He can’t forget
me…? What if I didn’t love him enough? A part of me is gone with him
now...I don’t want anything……..anything in this world. ….”
Mona clapped a hand across her opened mouth squeezing my hand. I felt
a sudden chill dripping from the top of my head down my spine making me
shiver. I kept on gaping helplessly. She crouched to a corner of the
room and sat against the wall howling loudly still hugging his night
shirt so tightly. |
