Blisters

Speckle the emotive half of my cerebrum.

The first half of Saturday was emotionally harrowing. Returning to a place filled with many a traumatizing memory, I thought I might be adult enough to make peace with my past. Unfortunately for me, that just wasn’t about to happen. From the moment I walked in to the moment I left- I had to hold the tears back. Steeled against what I knew was a pretense, I watched the dramatics unfold in this superficially staged play. He involved us. Involved amma in her own amma’s remembrance and for that I was thankful. I watched him, them, carefully. Scrutinizing their expressions for a crack in the put on veneer. Nope. Nothing. I guess they never felt it. Remorse should come from within but their insides are bereft of such feeling – I suppose. No matter, us girls stuck close to our father. And when we moved over to surround amma in a collective barrier of love, the boys covered dad. It was endearing really to see the result of our growth. We will never be them. That much is certain. The blisters, on the other hand, are unfit for band aids and antibacterial soap. It reminds me of something my grandma used to say: Wash your mouth with dettol. In her ignorance, she believed that lips that spoke ill could be cured with a slosh of dettol. I wonder how much you’d need to douse yourself in that stuff. No matter, I cried my little heart out in the car with Mikey. I cried not fully out of pain but mostly out of pity. Had she been alive, she would’ve realized the caliber of her spawn. And in disgrace, she would’ve cried too. That triggered the cascade of hurt and I just let it out. And gratefully, he let it pass – nothing said, no put on empathy given, no ‘saving face’ type words spoken. That’s why he fits in with us. Because he accepts us, as we are – not as what he thinks we can all become in the future.

The baby shower was interesting. It was fun spending time with the mom to be and my gorgeous girlfriends. It’s interesting how I can call them that. They were never mine to begin with and yet, through time something changed. I look at them the same way I look at my own – with concern, with my protective instincts ready to go up if the need arises, with loyalty and a tremendous amount of love. And that spilled over into an evening of pure bliss. M’s mom and dad joined the gang for Bear’s birthday soiree and once again I was tickled pink at how everything flowed flawlessly. We went back to their house and Bear’s broke open her pressies to find enough new gear to transform the borderline tom boy into a chic summer ready fashionista. Everyone did good with picking out things for her – all in all, it was a memorable night indeed.

Sunday was filled with rekindling some old fires with Mikeys mom. Things have been slightly shaky between us thanks to january’s verbal bout of ick. Thankfully, when I saw her things felt newer, better, familiar. She was my friend again but only because the two weeks away made me realize that I like having her in my life. More as a friend than a relative. And when we did hang out, that’s what I remembered the most. The friend part. She brought back tones of goodies for me from dubai and cochin. And as she was showing me each thing, I saw how excited she got watching me become excited. It was nice to return to that familiar feeling – like jammies that you lost and accidently found. Comfortable.

The rest of Sunday was spent doing work. Literally. In front of my laptop writing for hours. C’est la vie! Hopefully everyone had two days of bliss.

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Mission for the coming week: get rid of all tell tale signs of those barely there blisters.