It had been nearly two years since I ate Indian food a spell broken last night.
My mother *loved* Indian food. She loved all things India and ever since she died there in December 2008 I have had no desire for aloo papri or pakoras. While I know my mom would have encouraged me to eat the most delicious cuisine on the planet as much as possible I just did not.
As I sat at the table last night with my chicken tikka masala I stared at the photos of my mom with me and my daughter and had a conversation. I laughed, nodded in agreement and discussed our business. Her reaction was more muted.
Today I am depressed. Dragging.
Tomorrow I am traveling with my husband and kids to his hometown for his high school reunion and I miss my mom. I don’t know if it is the trip to my in-laws or the Indian food or just a jolt of reality that is pulling me into the abyss.
I miss my mom 100 times a day. I’m still digesting that she is gone. Even typing the words passed away in India I’m in disbelief. Did that really happen? When can I wake from this bad dream? Or can I at least find the motivation to take advantage of my sitter and run a few errands?