The Last Mile

My mother-in-law wasn’t doing well since the last few months. The name of her ailment was ‘old age’. She needed someone to feed, bathe, clean, change diapers, monitor her medication etc. Her food was blended to a paste just like toddler-food. She slept most of the day but very little at night. Her mind was agile, till perhaps the last 2 months. Counselling, would hurt her ego.

I mentioned to a friend that my MIL is ailing and mostly bed ridden now. She said, “This must be really hard for you. If you don’t look after her, your husband will blame you for having neglected his mother.” I asked myself if I was doing whatever I was doing, to escape the anger of my husband. A tiny voice in me said, ‘No, whatever my husband says, comes later. If I don’t look after her, my conscience will kill me.’ Surely the first thought that comes to your mind on any matter, is the voice of God.

Parents hold their babies hands and teach them to walk. When it is time for them to go, we need to hold their hands and help them crossover to the other side. Each one of us has to crossover, but if we can make the last part of our parent’s journey comfortable, perhaps our conscience can be at peace. Matri-rinn or Pitri-rinn can never be re-paid but we can try to do our bit.

My late father- in-law, was arrested during the Emergency in 1975. My MIL looked after their three children during that extremely turbulent time. People would say that the arrested Jan Sangh leaders would languish in jail and never return. But she kept the oil in her lamp burning, held her head high and remained strong. Her trauma ended after nineteen months when Dad returned home. This is no small feat. A woman’s life is intertwined with her husband’s. She played her part well…

My four year old granddaughter asked me why Dadi walked so slowly, that too with a walker. I said, “Because she has become very old now.” She asked, “Was she new, earlier?” Ohhh! I never thought of it like that. We are all new, when we are born. Then, we grow old. Lucky are those who become old, because those who don’t, die young.

The last ten days of her life were spent in the ICU in Fortis. She was on a Bi-Pap. A Ryle’s tube was in place to feed her. The last mile has been difficult for her, as well as for her progeny. We read the Bhagwad Gita to her, for deliverance from suffering.

Now that she has moved onto her onward journey, I pray that when she becomes new all over again, she is in a better place. She has been liberated from a body riddled with age and disease. All her life she said, “Jai Bansiwale”. May her Bansiwale Krishna keep her safe and blessed. Om Shanti Shanti Shanti.