Nan Khotun passed away this morning. I met her in November 2004 when M and I were dating. It was the first time I was meeting the family and I was so nervous. But it was nan Khotun who put me at ease as I walked through the door into her open arms as tears ran down her eyes - even though we couldn't speak to each other (we didn't have a common language), I could tell she was very happy to have me in her grandson's life. During dinner with the family, nan Khotun sat right next to me and I could feel her staring at me when she told M (who then interpreted for me) that even though she couldn't see very well, she thought I was beautiful. She went on to say that this was the first time a grandchild ever brought home their partner to meet her and she was very happy. From then on I knew this woman was special. She was like M's mom and even though she had been through a lot in her 84 years of life (including the murder of her youngest son many years ago when he was in his 30s), nan Khotun always had a way to make people laugh.
After living and working in Tajikistan for 3.5 years, I was leaving to come back home to Canada. One afternoon, I told her and M's grandfather that I was going back home because my contract was over. Nan Khotun asked me if I was going to come back to which M's grandfather chimed in with "why would she come back if her contract is finished." Nan Khotun responded with "don't you know anything about love?" And that shut M's grandfather up for the rest of our conversation. It was a very funny scene. And then there was the time when M and I visited in 2007. After an 18-hour bumpy and dusty ride from Dushanbe to Khorog , we arrived at nan Khotun's house late at night. We immediately went to sleep and when I greeted nan Khotun in the morning, she immediately asked "what's wrong with you hair" referring to its messiness after the journey.
Nan Khotun was M's 'mother' and grandmother and she was a very special woman. I'm sad that she never got to see K (we are planning on visiting Tajikistan later this year) but am happy that she knew about him.
Even though K is only 2.5 years old, I feel like he understands more than we think. On our way home from daycare this evening, I told K what happened and I explained that nan Khotun is tat's (Shugni word for father) babushka (Russian word for grandmother) and Babushka Gulanor's mommy. I told him she lived in Tajikistan and now she is gone. He came home and went to M and said "sorry about nan Khotun" and then told me that tat is sad because nan Khotun went away to Tajikistan. It was really cute.
My son, K, has been asleep for the past couple of hours and I've been roaming the house with nothing to do. I know that sounds strange for a mother of a 2.5 year old....of course I could be preparing my lunch for work tomorrow because that will not happen in the 45 minutes I have in the morning to get up, take K to the washroom to pee, eat breakfast and get changed (lucky for me, lunch is provided at daycare so I don't have to worry about that). There are so many things that I could clean up...like the puzzle pieces on the floor in the living room or the shoes and Winnie the Pooh boots in the hallway or the dishes in the sink. Or I could even be sleeping given that I need to wake up in a little over 6 hours (and maybe earlier if K wakes up to go to the washroom which if the past 2 days are any indication, it will be around 3 or 4 am). But I've decided to finally start a blog called Ode To My Son. I've been thinking (notice the emphasis on the word 'thinking) about writing a blog for quite some time. I've even spoken in length to my coach and a friend of mine who is blogging. And just a few weeks ago, I started doing some research on how to start a blog. But just like almost everything that has to do with me lately, I just put it off. So it's fitting that I officially (well at least it's official for me, I'm still not sure if I want followers yet) begin my blog in the last half hour of my 36th birthday.
Ode To My Son is a legacy for K- a set of short stories about him, life in general and the impact he is making on my life. I want to write these things down instead of have them floating in my head only to forget these special moments I've already shared with him and plan to share in the future.
I want to begin my first blog entry with a story that began when K turned 1 years old on July 21, 2009. It was around 4 in the afternoon and the daycare that he had just started going to a few weeks ago was having a birthday party for him. The room was filled with balloons, presents and kids wearing party hats (but not looking too happy about it - I'm sure you can picture it). The incident began when Patty, the caregiver (and an amazing woman), lit the candle on his birthday cake. Like all the other kids around the table, K (who was in an exersaucer because he couldn't yet sit in a chair by himself) was starring intently at the flame. And in a split second (with all the adults watching, by the way), K's curiosity got the best of him and he reached out his hand and touched the burning flame. You can guess what happened next....my heart sank as he began to cry and guilt immediately looked me in the face (how could I watch this happen and not protect him? Now I understand how quick a split second really is). I ran over from behind my video camera to comfort him while Patty went to the kitchen and came back with a frozen teething ring to put on K's hand. He calmed down and the party continued (mental note: keep frozen teething rings handy at home just in case).
Fast forward a year later and K is sitting at the table at daycare and the kids, Patty, Neftali (Patty's husband and the other caregiver at daycare) and I are singing Happy Birthday. K runs towards me and hides behind my legs as the time nears for him to blow out the candles (there have been many birthday parties and Kimran has figured out when it's time for the birthday boy/girl to blow out the candles). After numerous attempts of me trying to calm him down and convince him to blow out the candles, K stays true to his plan to not blow them out. In the end all the other kids and I blow out the 2 candles on the cake. And then this morning as we're driving to daycare, I tell K that when he comes home we're going to have a birthday party for me (just the 3 of us) and there will be a birthday cake. I ask him if he can help me blow out the candles (thinking that might be a better way alleviate his fears). He immediately says, "I help mommy blow candles" and continues to say this until we reach daycare while looking out the window in the back seat. It's as if he's trying to talk himself into being brave for me - I wonder if he thinks I am scared too? After dinner, I bring out the birthday cake and candles and K takes each candle one by one and puts them on various parts of the cake. As I light the candles I see him starring at them intently, but not in a scared kind of way. After he and M sing Happy Birthday to me in a mixture of Russian and English (which sounded really funny), I ask Kimran to help me blow out the candles (still not sure if he really is going to do it). And to my surprise he does until all the candles are blown out. This was a huge step for K and I know he felt proud of himself in that moment. I'm so glad it happened on my birthday.
My son is truly a miracle (I will write about that in another post) and he has taught me so much in the short time he has been in my life. Over the past 2.5 years, I have laughed, cried and most importantly, started reflecting on how I want to live my life and the kind of person I want to be. I am excited about this journey I am on with my son and for right now, very excited to capture these moments.
