Bye Nanu

After my father passed away, I felt a vacuum inside me. A pull and a push at the same time. The agony was physical. Like I was missing a few organs, but my brain didn’t know it yet and continued to make the rest of my body go through the motions of day-to-day existence. I thought of him all day and dreamt of him all night. His voice, his heavy pats on my head, his amber brown eyes, his absolute fearlessness. Even if he wasn't part of the dream, he was present. Constantly. Walking around in the background, reading, eating, sipping his tea. 

Two agonizing months passed and one night I lay in bed next to my baby girl fighting sleep, craving it, my mind exhausted. And then my daughter said, "Bye Nanu". It wasn't the sleep-laced mumblings of a child. It was loud and emphatic. I fumbled for my phone and in the small light of the display saw that she was fast asleep. I lifted her into my arms and wept.

The next morning, I casually asked her what she'd dreamt of the night before and instantly with her mouth full of pancakes, she said "Nanu". Just like that. Matter of fact. "What did he say", I pressed. "Nothing", she shrugged. "I was playing with 'Pooh' and he was sitting next to me. Then he got up and started walking away and I said 'Bye Nanu'". She said this with the earnestness that can only come from a child.

The dead do not come back to communicate with with us. It is forbidden by the Bible to invoke them to do so. But dreams do hold some significance in The Word and I would love to think that my father just came to say his goodbyes to his beloved little grand daughter.

Harry Potter Revisited

Re-reading books I’ve enjoyed over the years, has been a habit instilled in me by my father. I’d rarely see him without a book in his hand and he’d always read a chapter or two before bed. Now seeing my daughter devour book after and go back to them in these two months of quarantine reminds me so much of him. Everything reminds me of him.

She’s gone through the entire box set of Harry Potter and has doubled back the second time.

I wish I could forget the books and feel the exhilaration of discovering them all over again. Making the little connections and marvelling at J.K Rowling genius. The constant question my LO has been asking me is, “But, how did she do it? How is she so awesome?” And I can only say, “I don’t know baby!”

I’ve cried with her over the loss of beloved characters, and agreed with her anger at Snape, only to console her when he died. This storm of emotions she’s going through now are an experience by themselves. There is no explaining, no confusion, no disappointment. Only awe. I want that again.

From weeping over Dumbledore, to crying for Tonks and her baby without a mother, the insight she has on the books couldn’t make me prouder.

I received the box set as a 25^th birthday gift from a dear friend and I’ve treasured them for the past decade. They came with me to the hospital when I went to deliver this child of mine and kept me company while I stayed up nights watching her, feeding her, and waiting for her to wake.

To now have her find joy in these 7 books like I did, is a joy in itself.