He shuffles now where
he once had an iron step.
.
I know him to be the person I know,
but also a stranger, in his chemical world.
.
I speak to him of today -
cold morning, steam off the jasmine tea;
.
he looks out of the window
at known flights he can't describe.
.
He asks me why I'd gone to Varanasi -
I say dad, it was last year.
.
He smiles and says - time is flexible,
when you are not at its behest.
.
He kisses me goodbye at the front door,
and I pray - till the next cup of tea, stay.
.
Till the next cup of tea, stay.
The greatest vulnerability as one grows older is to see one’s parents grow older too. It’s a benediction that they are with us - but we know that the hours are slowly drying up.
They are not what they were, they are often shadows. They carry the love they had for us, but often forgot the specifics of the little things which made our lives together so valuable. They irritate, they repeat things incessantly, things they were good at, now stump them. They are the same, but a strange version of themselves too.
But just to have them around is the ultimate blessing - to have tea with them in the morning, for them to come out of their bedroom and kiss you, to see them look at you with the gentlest look in their eyes.
I cry every time I think of the silences which will fill the house, one day or or the other. If nothing else, they are the ones who have taught me the enormity of what a moment with someone you love can mean.
Tim Urban wrote in The Tail End -
I’ve been thinking about my parents, who are in their mid-60s. During my first 18 years, I spent some time with my parents during at least 90% of my days. But since heading off to college and then later moving out of Boston, I’ve probably seen them an average of only five times a year each, for an average of maybe two days each time. 10 days a year. About 3% of the days I spent with them each year of my childhood.
Being in their mid-60s, let’s continue to be super optimistic and say I’m one of the incredibly lucky people to have both parents alive into my 60s. That would give us about 30 more years of coexistence. If the ten days a year thing holds, that’s 300 days left to hang with mom and dad. Less time than I spent with them in any one of my 18 childhood years.
When you look at that reality, you realize that despite not being at the end of your life, you may very well be nearing the end of your time with some of the most important people in your life.
It turns out that when I graduated from high school, I had already used up 93% of my in-person parent time. I’m now enjoying the last 5% of that time. We’re in the tail end.
Drop everything. Go, hug your parents. Or call them.
Or just find a serene spot and remember them.
Some of the previous editions, in case you missed them!
How should we praise? How can something which is quietly done, often life-saving, invariably invaluable, be ever repaid?
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Till the Next Cup of Tea