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LETTER FROM MATA MAI

This morning, I received this reply:

 

Dearest Laura,

 

We do love them, don't we, these extraordinary men from our youth?  And they were truly men, something rarely seen these days.  Maybe rarely seen in the past, as well.  But, dear daughter, they are dead.  They have been dead for a long time now.  I am myself working on the project of detaching myself from Mani.  I suggest you do the same for Sandeep.

 

I had a dream about this which I have put in sometimes - 2.  If you haven't read it, please do.  I know it is hard to even want to let go, but if we are going to grow and advance and be worthy of our shaheeds, that's what we must do.

 

We will never stop loving them, of course, and I doubt the ache in the heart will ever really leave.  But we must somehow learn to let them be a sweet memory and not the centre of our lives.

 

You have a husband who loves you, who is a good man who treats you with respect and honour.  You have children you can be proud of.  I have a man who has stood by me through things that almost any other man would have used as an excuse to take off - or at least as an excuse for infidelity.  We need to appreciate what we have, instead of focusing on what we have lost.

 

I am not suggesting we can - or should - forget, only that our priorities need to be in the present, not the past.  Valentine's Day and the first few days of November  will always be difficult, but with ardaas, gurbani and some extra simran we'll get by with a commemoration of all that happened without breaking our hearts anew every year.

 

I am happy to always be a mother to you;  I will always love you as a daughter.  Our reunion has warmed and strengthened me.  I will always love you for the lovely young woman I have known and the wonderful grown woman you have become.  Please, please, for the sake of your husband and children, and even more, for your own spiritual sake, let go of Sandeep.

 

Love always,

 

Mata Mai

--
WHY TRY TO FIT IN WHEN YOU WERE BORN TO STAND OUT?

Letter To Mai Mata Ji

Dear Mai Mata Ji,

I have been wanting to talk to you for a long time. The last time I saw you we were all so deeply hurt that no one knew what to say or do. I was a 13 year old girl whose life had just ended and you were a nearly dead widow whose son had also been murdered. We were not in the mood to talk.

I have never forgotten Sandeep. I still love him as I did then. We had our whole lives planned. We would get married at 18. Both of us would attend McGill University. We hadn't decided what we'd major in. We were going to have four children. We would let Waheguru choose their sexes. We were going to live in the family home in Montreal because it was a great place for kids to grow up, but we'd spend a lot of time on the farm and maybe build an addition onto your house for us and the kids to stay in. You and Papa Ji would always be delighted to have us hanging around. We were going to form a Punjabi rock band. At first, we'd just play locally, but we'd be discovered by Brian Epstein and become like the Beatles. Then we'd quit our day jobs and just be rockers.

The last part was just a pipe dream. Of course, we knew that, but at our age anything seemed possible. Anything but that he'd die.

I've read your blogs with many tears. You express what I couldn't say. Its been 22 1/2 years now. I have a good life, 4 kids and a loving husband. His parents love me and we make a happy family, so I have nothing to complain about.

The old dream has never died. Maybe it is just true that first love is the deepest. It is pure, untouched by the evil of the world. I know he never believed that such evil and cruelty really existed and I didn't either. We both learned the hard way. I'm finding some bitterness inside myself I didn't realize was there. WHAT RIGHT DID THEY HAVE TO DESTROY OUR FUTURE! WHY HAS NO ONE PAID? I am happier than I can express that you got to kill the murderer and that you have never cleaned his blood off your kirpan. Others can say whatever they want but they have no right to judge us.

I'm getting too worked up. I want to ask your permission for one thing. I know we were too young to be married, but we always intended to and I already thought of him as my husband and me as his wife when he was killed. Would you be offended that I think of myself as his widow as if we really were married?

Love,
Laura

Finding Mai Ji

I have just found the woman who should have been my mother-in-law.