MELLOW MOODS AND MARMALADE SKIES

As the last breath of autumn fades away, the days stretch into Mid October, bringing along with it grey,foggy noons and cold,misty dawns. 

Without missing a beat, I push myself to walk more briskly in the garden this week, while simultaneously at it with my physiotherapy which I have slightly upgraded to a milder version of pilates I used to do before my life decided to hover on the edge of an abyss.

It's now almost two months—two days short into my ASD open heart surgery, Dear Diary. Days have melded into weeks and then into months. Juggling through a topsy turvy maze I hadn't even in my wackiest dreams hoped to encounter this uncharted route life had smacked me in the face!

Just when I thought that every throbbing pain was here to stay, I never realized that in the meantime, every cell in my body was working extremely hard to recover itself and give me back my lost vigour. Survival instinct, the will to carry on for my family especially my Babylou nudged me to do my best.

Although my confidence is still a bit wobbly to step out of my gate and walk through the bustling city teeming in a sea of relentless speeding traffic, the only breath of fresh air is my childhood yard and garden which offers me great solace. Nature heals and these long standing homegrown trees are my wood spirits who have watched me grow over the decades.

Digging my roots deeper as a shrub would in the most dire environments to find nourishment, so must have I, to find my resolve, to get back on my feet and bounce off the walls! 

This miraculous transformation has also bestowed upon me great soundness of mind which was grappling with its own unresolved dilemmas and messy emotions these past couple of months.

Careening to rock bottom, I was in an alien world without a manual. Cringing at the thought of depending on my loved ones for the most basic of needs made me fiercely work solo wherever I could help it, despite a bandaged torso with it's 10 inch raw incision from collar bone to sternum, making me wince at the slightest of movements.

Grit is the trick and healing yourself painfully is the tip. Today, after tons of efforts, the pain has not only subsided a great deal but I have also regained my balance to stand on tippy toes by the grace of God and the generous blessings of family and friends who have selflessly gone out of their way to keep me in their prayers.

Yesterday, 18th October, Dear Diary, I took it upon myself to trudge up and down two flights of stairs after two months to the upper storey of our home. And I did it! Without huffing and puffing. 

As the dusk turns to mellow gold, I gaze skyward during my evening walk to spot the tall silhouettes of migratory birds with their spindly legs, parading the skies, heading home to a warmer land for the winter.

As the days draw closer and there's exactly a month to go before my caution period is over, I too pine more strongly and desperately than ever about a home on a distant, yet not so far away tropical shore. I think this winter bird is more than ready to take that flight now. 

There are days, and then there are days! My healing journey, Dear Diary, has been just that.

©️ Sangeetha Kamath