I met her!
At long last!
Now, I can satisfy my curiosity and also put my aching desire to rest.
I fidgeted as we stood in the quiet restaurant sizing each other up. She was calm.
I had chosen an exclusive restaurant, to give our brains an opportunity to assimilate each others presence,
without getting consumed in the distractions that comes from the busy-ness of a crowded place.
My stomach was filled with butterflies. I could almost feel the rushing flow of my blood in my veins.
This was a moment that I had thought of all my conscious life.
The when? The what if? The how?
I felt that meeting her would be a glorious turning point in my stable life.
We would cry, laugh and take selfies.
We would talk non-stop to cover so much ground.
I came clutching the photo album, that I had put together.
I needed to slay my demons and I felt that she had the sword.
Finally, she would bring some rainbow and sunshine,
into the deepest parts of me that had lived for 27 years with the question; WHAT IF?
I wanted to get rid of that feeling of rejection; that feeling of inadequacy and doubt,
which had been constant shadowy companions, peeking over my shoulders.
I searched her eyes,
They were gray like mine; but they bore no warmth in their depths.
The curve of her lips which were shaped like mine; drew hard on the elegant E-cigarette which adorned her lips,
yet they could hardly shape into a smile.
Her raven black hair was devoid of any grey hairs. No strand was out of place. She was perfectly groomed.
She was still a very attractive woman; for her age.
I subconsciously smoothed down my floral Sunday best. I had dressed to impress.
Her facial features were stiff; I figured that it was due to the use of botox and not just the harshness of life.
A puff and a sip later,
Without much ado, she dove right into the matter.
I think you are grown up enough to understand, she said.
You came when I was least prepared to have a child, and the truth is that I am still not sure that I want that responsibility. I have never had motherly instincts, and at my age, I should know. I agreed to meet with you after all these years because I felt that was the least that I could do; so that you can move on.
I do not apologize for my decision to let you go. I did what I did because it was the best thing for me.
Does that make me selfish? Maybe?
But, look at you! You turned out very well. I am happy about that.
She picked up the tab, picked up her expensive looking leather pocket book and walked out of the revolving door,
without a backward glance. Only the whiff of her perfume and the trailing puff of her smoke lingered for a while.
I sat in utmost silence and bewilderment for quite a bit.
I polished off the remaining Cabernet Sauvignon as my idling brain struggled to process the entire episode.
For some reason, I did not feel a heavy crash of disappointment.
Some odd sense of burdened release seemed to be my most paramount feeling.
I felt like a captive whose shackles had been released. Free to love freely,
the woman who has nurtured me all these years, without any sense of guilt or boundaries.
I realized what my biological mother was,
a mere vehicle that providence used to bring me here.
That a good moment of feeling sexy and conception,
Did not automatically make you a good mother.
Through the figment of my imagination, that I had built over the years,
I had accorded so much what if’s and possibilities to her.
I was happy that I met her.
Happy to have the what if’s, the how and the when answered,
All in one fell swoop.
I may not have slain all my demons,
But I left my doubts and shadowy companions,
back in that exclusive restaurant.
I went home to my mother, my mum.