My learnings from 2021

 As I sit down to write, I take a moment to close my eyes and ponder – Is there one word that would sum up my experience of the year 2021? The word that springs to mind is ‘Resilience’. I pause…take a moment to turn to my trusty Google to check on my understanding of the word. Here it is “the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness”. Circumstances brought that out in me.

The year started with a lot of anticipation and joy. It was to be a landmark year for me personally as I thought I would be reaching the wisdom of my magical ‘50^th’ year. Least did I also expect that this wisdom would arise from the crucible of personal loss.

Confronting my own unconscious bias - A year when, not only did I see a tsunami of loss and despair around me in due to the lethal 2^nd wave of covid, but also during it all, I’d had to grapple with the disbelieving news that my dear father was suffering from a so called “taboo” disease - Pulmonary Tuberculosis. During my younger years, I had only heard of this ailment affecting others – never spoken of in my adulthood. Never spoken of in the circles of my family and friends. Almost as though this disease is not prevalent, despite the prevalence of shadowy remnants of isolation hospitals in town. I later learnt of three known people in my own social & family circle who have recovered from this. We keep quiet. And there lay my first learning – confronting my own unconscious bias.  

From wondering how on earth my father could have contracted this infectious disease especially in a year of not stepping out of the house, to learning from many trusted doctors that it is latent in about 70% Indians, only to surface when the body’s natural immunity falls low. Like it did in my father’s case. Old age and lungs weakened by years of asthma did it for him.

From the initial numbness, I quickly jumped to learn what precautions to take, its prognosis while simultaneously confronting my own fears - for my health and that of my immediate family’s. And learning that in India, the medical protocol is not to test and treat immediate family but treat only active cases, and to tell caregivers to take precautions by wearing a mask etc. That it might not ever affect us if our immunity is good. I also found that I not only had to educate myself on this but also our well-wishers. Because, well, very few know as it’s usually not talked about. What I do know now is that this needs to be diagnosed in time and the prolonged treatment, though tough on the body, be completed for complete recovery. And this can happen to anyone, anytime, even if we are vaccinated, as we all are, should we be immuno compromised. I am reminded of this every time, I read medical advisories on covid, advising patients with 2-3 weeks of persistent coughing to test for tuberculosis.

Developing resilience demanded that I not only faced my own fears of an unknown disease but also ensure that I gave my father love and care so that he did not feel stigmatised by any word or action. Of course, to cut a long story short, there was a domino effect on an already frail body and other more serious ailments came to the fore, leading to his passing away within a short span of a month.

Holding sacred spiritual space – I experienced that being by the side of a loved one as they leave this earthly abode is profound and moving. I was holding a sacred spiritual space – the cusp of the known to the unknown. A connection. A giant leap of faith. With it came a calmness and resilience such as I’d never experienced before. As dad’s soul left for its heavenly abode, I found grace enough to say a prayer and wish him well. A profound stillness, a deep thankfulness to be with him in that moment. To have had him as my father.  I hope I am able to hold this space for others to - at work, in conversations - even as they evolve into new awareness of themselves.   

Grieving well - I’m glad. Yes, I can say that now. Though the cognitive mind at the time took over and told me that its best he did not suffer, the deeper emotional ‘Daddy’s girl’ in me missed his presence. Having lost my mother a decade ago, it now felt as though the umbrella of my parent’s prayers, grace and blessings was lifted from my head.

As I remained physically confined within the 4 walls of my house the next few months due to the covid wave, I took refuge in stillness & contemplation as I slowly worked through my grief. As my husband told dad’s palliative care doctor a few months later, and I know not how I did it, but I had “grieved well”. People grieve, but what is to grieve well? And that’s my second learning – It’s important to grieve well. I learnt that it is not about sobbing and anguish. Though it may be part of the journey for some. For me it was about taking comfort in remembrances – at times in stillness, with gratitude and at times in conversations with loved ones. To remember, let go and let the memories be. At my own pace. There is no right or wrong method, no right or wrong time.

The bird on the tree - I also experienced that God in his infinite mercy sends us little signs of comfort and grace if we but look for them. For me, it was the bird which would sit on the tall tree seen a short distance from my window. A few months before his death, my father had once pointed it out and mentioned that this bird(s) always tends to perch on the frail tallest point of one of the three ‘Ashoka’ trees. It was his favourite way to pass the time – watching nature. I had never noticed them before. A few weeks after of his death, when my heart felt heavy, I looked out the window and there was this little bird, perched on that very same tree. That bird gave me a sense of connection, of comfort, of continuity and hope. And in the immediate weeks and months that followed, whenever I remembered my dad, I looked out for the bird on the tree. I don’t know how but it remained faithfully perched whenever I most needed it be. I rarely see it now. Seasons change and so do needs. Look for the signs. They are all around. If we but stay still, observe, and make meaning of them. Listen to that still inner voice.          

Be prepared to surprise yourself - I had always despaired that I tended to lose focus midway. As I look back on the year gone by, I have found that I surprised myself. I have persisted consistently in certain matters to get sustained results. Persistence crept up on me, particularly in matters of adhering to a healthy lifestyle. This happened when I shifted focus from what I ‘did not want’ to ‘what I wanted’.

Be prepared to be surprised by the generosity of others - This year also brought home to me how much love, strength and support I've received from others - my immediate family, extended family, friends who have become family - you know who you are, friends, neighbours, colleagues, medical fraternity. Be it a call, a text, a listening ear, a word of encouragement, advice, a hug - I am overwhelmed that so many cared enough and more. Not just once, but over time. Resilience was bolstered by love. My heart is full of gratitude! I hope I can give at least some of it back and also pass it on. 

This 50^th year of my life has certainly been a watershed year. Even as I lost my earthly father, I came home to the wisdom of another dimension of myself. Coming home to a sacred space of openness, stillness, resilience, gratitude, hope and comfort. Enough to give of myself to two other close friends who also lost a parent the same year. I’m glad I surprised myself. Here's to 2022 with gratitude and hope!