Dancing with Ghosts
Dancing with Ghosts
Since the hardest of hearts, in all honesty, melts in the wake of love and romance, I shall start with one of sorts…
I had the most perfect parents. My mom was incredibly beautiful and unbelievably efficient. My dad, an exceptional human being, implemented radical religious principles in his quiet, unassuming manner. They cared deeply about each other but refrained from displaying any affection in our presence. And so, I guess, as far as their daughter was concerned, friendship with the opposite sex was a clear ‘No!’ All such associations were frowned upon leaving my young mind to assume that it had to be romance or nothing at all. So, romance walked right in, stole my heart, walked away and never gave it a second thought. That was then.
In this pseudo sheltered environment, where girls were not meant to ride bicycles, go to parties or carnivals or simply dance (Well…my mom had to actually accompany me to the O/Level after party my friend had while my dad was parked outside; and so, obviously our departure long preceded the grand finale). But, then we grew up in the midst of an extremely large extended family in whose company we basked as children not quite realizing that life would change with time and politics in the adult world.
I grew up to be rather naïve, extremely stupid, I might add, and rather unsophisticated (which, I think, I still am — I meant unsophisticated). So, we had just completed our A/Ls and my dear friend and I decided to attend a particular event for which I had managed to get permission for a few hours. There I was in my tiered skirt, my mom had made, and my puff-sleeved blouse. I had a donkey fringe and was feeling completely out of place. I could never understand why I had decided to attend, to begin with. I wished with all my hear that the evening would end.
Until…
There he was — the cutest guy I had ever set eyes upon. Our eyes met across the floor, locked and held for what seemed an eternity. That moment everyone dreams of: the whole world stopped, no one else seemed to exist. I could feel my head reeling: my heart threatening to burst. I prayed silently that time would stand still.
“Hey!” it’s time to leave…and so, we did.
Did I meet him again? YES. Did I end up with him? NO. Did I ever give him a chance? NO. Well then, at least: Did I ever feel like that again, with anyone else? NO.
Then there was my dad’s sister. I loved her with all of my little heart but lived in eternal guilt most of my life. How could I possibly love her more than my mom? How could I ever explain this bond? — A burden I carried in my heart, my emotions tossed between the two: feeling guilty for something I could never rationalize. Whenever she visited, my heart would leap for joy. But soon it would be time for her to go and I had to save my tears for closed doors. We would visit her sometimes in her home far away and I would cry silent tears all the way back, afraid I would hurt my mom. It was not a happy place to be. When you don’t have a grip on yourself, life tends to be relentless.
Further on in life, I had left the country, and one day, during my ritualistic daily call, my aunt happened to be at my mom’s. When she answered, my heart skipped a beat. I could hear the joy in her voice: but guilt walked in, my words hung suspended and faded away as I asked for my mom. I could hear the disappointment creep in. A few hours later, on her way back to my uncle’s, she died. Had I broken her heart? (This uncertainty tortured me for over 30 years.) I was not granted closure. She was not really my mom, so why did I need to fly all the way back? That was not deemed a necessity. The guilt reversed. Now, how could I love my mom and let her down? But why, why had I felt so tied to her all my life? Well… I was past 40 when I came to know, quite accidentally, might I add, that I had been left with my grandparents at a very young age resulting in the unusual bond. So, there, at least I had an answer. Was that supposed to make anything any easier?
This leads to another important link: Crakur…the beautiful Japanese Spitz my aunt had presented me with, and I had loved beyond reason. Coincidentally, a while after my aunt, he breathed his last; and again — I wasn’t there. I could not let him go: that’s all I had left of her. So, I had to brave the moment and ask my mom to contact a taxidermist and have him preserved. When I got back, I visited my aunt’s grave, and buried him; and I thought I had let it all go. How terribly mistaken I was.
It’s uncanny how much of our lives is tied to our memories and the ghosts we carry. I drifted along, nothing really making any sense in any area: nothing positive seemed to last. Not relationships, not any of the great jobs I had. I ran away from them all — always the moth; and no one could help me…and then when that happens, friends fall by the wayside, relatives look at you cross-eyed and you tend to repeat seemingly endless cycles affecting not only yourself but those your treasure the most.
Then, one day, out of the blues a process begins: a process engineered, I believe to direct me to the path that had always been designed for me …Three factors came together to change my course and direction in life: two exceptional human beings and Chootie. Let me explain…
A little over a year ago, I became involved with a group of people who have had the most amazing influence on the ‘woman in the mirror’ , thanks to a rather ‘out of the box’ human being I had known virtually all my life, but had had limited contact with. It was there that I began to ask myself tough questions. The thought process, unawares to me had begun, simply because someone had cared enough to believe in me. I found myself changing, becoming stronger, and believing that I could be much more than I had given myself credit for; and, that I must surely be worth something. It was here that the strongholds that had held me captive for years slowly began to lose their power.
Then…
Some months later, completely out of the blues, someone very dear to me decides to place their faith and trust in me, in spite of having seen me travel my path; risking their reputation and all they had worked so hard to build. No hesitation whatsoever; no criteria given; no questions asked other that what was relevant to the task. What if I had let them down? Walked away? Resigned again? How was I supposed to rationalize this? But when someone places their trust in you, in your darkest moments, something happens in the very depths of your soul and you rise to the occasion. It revamps your mindset and gives you confidence and a sense of self-worth like nothing else ever can.
Did I realise everything I have told you so far? — Certainly not. All that I’m telling you right now is in hindsight: a result of Chootie who touched our lives like no human being ever could. She came into our lives when my daughter was ten and my son four. I raised them together for over 12 years — but could never really express what I had felt in my heart. She was my daughter’s: and that was that. Until, she began fighting for her life, she was technically not my responsibility — Seriously? During those final days of her life, my life began to unfold right in front of my eyes. As I began to wonder why I had not been capable of bestowing upon her the affection I had always felt, answers began to reel in.
Chootie suffered much, and breathed her last as I watched my daughter, shattered, yet composed displaying a maturity I had been incapable of. She made difficult, painful decisions in favour of Chootie who could not speak for herself. As we laid her to rest, I knew that none of us would ever be the same again. I watched my daughter’s heart break into a million pieces — yet, she never reached out to me. I could feel what she was thinking. I had to take some of the blame. I had made decisions which placed Chootie in the difficult position she had been exposed to — which resulted in her condition. How could I have been so cold-hearted? Why was I so detached from her and most people I genuinely cared about? Why had I intentionally flirted with disaster and kicked everything good aside, virtually all my life? There was the tapestry…I could see it unveil in stages…in doses I could digest.
The next few days and weeks turned out to be the most significant in my life. The ghosts I had harboured and pampered throughout my life began their parade, and the memories from the past that had been dragging me back in time began to tie up the loose ends; and as they did, life began to make sense. Those I had placed my faith in and had tried so hard to please all my life had never really had my back at all. Some of the ridiculous choices I had made had been a result of the circumstances I had been placed in. All the lies I had believed about myself had taken root over the years but the seeds had been sown long before I could really understand.
When people walk out on you, abuse your trust, shirk their responsibilities, make you feel inadequate and lord over your life, you don’t really grow up with much self-worth. Somehow you tend to become comfortable in fading into the shadows. Now I could see how I had let that moment pass me by a lifetime ago: I had dragged around a ghost who had let me down long before and made me feel worthless. With all the ghosts I had carried around with me all my life and the negative memories and emotions, I had not stood a chance. Or had I?
That was indeed the moment of truth. It had all been my doing. In adulthood, I had made the choices. It had been me right along: I could hear his words ringing in my ears: “Nangi, you just need to learn to love yourself. Until you do that, nothing can work out for you.” But hey, no! My Sunday School had taught me that I needed to put myself last: “Jesus first, yourself last and others in-between.” But, it slowly dawned on me that the Bible rests on two commandments — one which requires you to love your neighbour as yourself. Need I say more? How could I have missed that all these years?
Somehow, Chootie taught me that my kids didn’t need straight A’s. I had not failed them: the weeks they spent by her side made me realise that they had grown up with exceptional values in place. I had to let go of those ghosts I thought I had to please — they were no longer a part of my life. If I wanted to break the chains and patterns I had to let go of the toxic environments that perpetuated the negativity. However painful, I had to break free. I had to trust the Hand that, I believe led me to this point and made everything come together. I had to make the choice, to let go and begin. I began to understand, forgive myself, forgive my memories and forgive those who had wronged me: they had only been dealing with their ghosts. I had to cut lose. I had to believe. I do actually like who I am becoming…who I am…and grateful for the awakening.
The battle is hardly over; it has only begun. When you take a step in the right direction, it is not towards a precipice. The climb won’t be easy, but the view is promising — I suspect, spectacular.
