I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. Gray hair has taken over. It’s not just gray; it shows years. Years of sacrifice raising two kids with my husband. “That is where you see all your dreams and hopes, Shyama,” I tell myself. You kept it inside because you wanted your children to have the …
Tag: Sri Lanka
Remembering Mom
To my beautiful Mom,
Where do I begin, Mom? I hope you can see me every day like you used to. Our deep and endless conversations . . . Will I be able to ever stop these thoughts? Who would ever have dreamed our times together would pass? The impermanence of life was disguised in your endless love. I cherish all those memories.
My Mother’s Lap
She is the Buddha of my home/ the color of kindness, yellow,/ turned red blood/ to white breast milk/ and lavender.