School has started. And so have the tests. As usual, when Vidur returns to school after almost two months’ vacation, you know how it is. I hallucinate all the time. One might think that after the hectic morning I’d just settle down to work and get my stuff done, eh? Not so.

On Monday, I walked around the house, freaking out a little over the “conspicuous by his absence” -ness of Vidur. When I finally dragged myself to the pc desk, I missed seeing his back from my vantage point. I missed the sudden humming of a tune. I missed the 11.30 am coffee when he joined me with a glass of juice. Some spilled, followed by laughter, some recollection of “paati” moments, giggling over a childhood anecdote and discussing lunch as we returned to our respective seats to resume what we were doing.

Just as I keep hearing your voice at 2.30 pm urging me to get ready to go to school, I imagine hearing Vidur’s singing voice all the time. Sometimes giving me critical info about what he’s up to with his hobbies, his interests. Listening to his grand life plans. Yes, he has one. And I love it.

One might think I am talking about a long separation. If 8 am to 3 pm can make me mushy, imagine when there comes a time when he actually has to go study somewhere. I shudder to think of it. Children always adjust and get busy with their stuff. It is us adults, the parents whose hearts turn into marshmallows and dictate our thoughts. The tear glands are ready to flow at the most unexpected times without warning.

Still, Mi, I am blessed with an affectionate, compassionate, kind son. For that I will always be grateful. I pray that all his wonderful dreams come true.

Can you imagine this is his last year at school? 12 years of the same routine will give way to new things this time next year.

Growing up with Vidur is a glorious journey. So maybe it stretched my patience sometimes, but then, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Truly, just as bringing up children is a challenge for parents, children also have a solid challenge bringing up their parents.

Sigh. I wish you were here with me so we could mull over the memories.

P.S. – still haven’t made the dosai milaga podi. Waiting for the last minute. That would be some time today.

Let’s brew it!

a