On His Lost Mother
Lately, I got to know that one friend of mine, whom I got I know since I was in class seven, lost his beloved mother-his one and only the parent he grew up with. As I know, he lost his father, back to the time he doesn’t remember, maybe he was just toddling. Living as a son to only one parent, that’s also a mother who used to often get sick, would have been hard for him, unthinkably I wonder, how hard it would have been to his mother. However, they were a small family I saw with my eyes.
As I look back into the days we spent together in the middle secondary school, that’s for almost four years, I see, we had a memorable childhood. I was most of the time, sort of indoor all the time, so I never had much time with friends. At school, we were in different sections after class eight. All I could meet him was during intervals and on the way to and fro school. Those bits of memories I’ve with him and other terrible friends are vibrant. We had those beautiful memories of laughter; of course others that may make us cry too if we remember.
But after class ten I never met him. He didn’t qualify for higher secondary school. While I went for high school he was busy fighting for recovery after he had a terrible accident that winter-he was injured while playing khuru*.
Then I was busy on my own world. I don’t know what else did happen neither could I contact him other than hi-bye sort of short texting on Facebook.
Unfortunately, a few weeks back, a friend informed me he lost his mother! I can see how horrible it would have been to him – how hard would have it been to challenge the lost all by himself – he’s the only child born to her.
As a friend, I couldn’t do anything to help him. It seems like it’s the same from the other friends too. There’s nothing that we can do too other than to pray for her peace. Prayers are always with us for his beloved mother!
And the prayers for his happy life! (Of course it’s a great of him that he’s already living an independent life while I am still struggling as a student)
Note:
Khuru* - Bhutanese dart sport
As I look back into the days we spent together in the middle secondary school, that’s for almost four years, I see, we had a memorable childhood. I was most of the time, sort of indoor all the time, so I never had much time with friends. At school, we were in different sections after class eight. All I could meet him was during intervals and on the way to and fro school. Those bits of memories I’ve with him and other terrible friends are vibrant. We had those beautiful memories of laughter; of course others that may make us cry too if we remember.
But after class ten I never met him. He didn’t qualify for higher secondary school. While I went for high school he was busy fighting for recovery after he had a terrible accident that winter-he was injured while playing khuru*.
Then I was busy on my own world. I don’t know what else did happen neither could I contact him other than hi-bye sort of short texting on Facebook.
Unfortunately, a few weeks back, a friend informed me he lost his mother! I can see how horrible it would have been to him – how hard would have it been to challenge the lost all by himself – he’s the only child born to her.
As a friend, I couldn’t do anything to help him. It seems like it’s the same from the other friends too. There’s nothing that we can do too other than to pray for her peace. Prayers are always with us for his beloved mother!
And the prayers for his happy life! (Of course it’s a great of him that he’s already living an independent life while I am still struggling as a student)
Note:
Khuru* - Bhutanese dart sport
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