Where has the joy gone?

I’ve become acutely aware of the transient experience of joy since Ma’s demise. Not because joy was all-pervading prior to that. But I had fun and joy without thinking that it will end soon. Only because being so close to the end experience makes the transience of joy all the more obvious. It reminds me of all the things she enjoyed and no longer does. 

I sense this in Baba’s writings. We are all back to our "normal" lives. We are interacting with friends, some old and dear, some new and fun. We are working on our desired projects and workstreams. We are spending time with our lovely children. But when we are alone, we are besieged with thoughts of Ma. Her last few days. Her agony. The loss and space she left in our lives, for some physical and for all of us an emotional gaping hole. Those thoughts too shall pass one day. But the feeling that any joy is temporary seems to be here to stay. 

Yet when she passed away, her impact has been indelible. That is proved by the fact that while our lives haven’t ended up in any significant upheaval (except for Baba), life as a whole seems to have a seismic shift. Her credit card bills were paid. Her hospital bills were nearly all covered by didi’s insurance. Her things, already neatly down the the required minimum because she was never one to hoard and hold onto things. Even her choice love of saris - we packed them away within a day. Her emotional needs from her daughters was not a lot either. She never demanded our time. When we failed to call frequently, she would worry a little. But she never asked much of us. When we visited, she grew accustomed to spending as much time or as little time with us as we wanted. She never minded that we took her for granted. Hence, except for the last few months of her life when most of us had upended our lives to take care of her, prior to that she didn’t really take up that much space in my life. I probably feel that the most since I was far away. 

And yet all those things that I favored doing - meeting friends, going out to eat, bagging new clients - bring me little and fleeting solace and joy today. I still do them. And I enjoy them as one would enjoy pleasant distractions. But that’s what they feel like. Fleeting moments of enjoyment followed by a permanent sense of pain. I know she would have never wanted this for me. She would be tormented by my sorrow. And that makes me feel even sadder. So I try to brush away this sadness, and make plans to enjoy myself a little bit more. I try to volunteer more to bring sense of peace but all it does is remind me more of the transience of it all. Some of the things that give me great joy now are moments I spend with my son and my father. I guess they remind me most of the unconditional love I got from Ma.