We lived to tell the tale

Tale of 13 girls and a birthday party. And then 8 girls and their sleepover. Really, if you knew how much cumulative lung power a collection of girls can carry, you'd be ringing us up and asking after our healths right now! Or maybe you'd be emailing us because we have gone deaf with all the shrieking and screaming and can't hear the phone ring now.

S' birthday was on October 31st - as it is every year, in case you didn't know. And we decided to keep it low key - mainly because I wasn't feeling up to a party right after losing my dad. I didn't want to tell her to go without a party this year either (and SHE did suggest it) because frankly, I think this is the time when we NEED all the social interaction we can get. At least I do. It takes my mind off of my loss and brings me out of the self-pity mode.

So, just 3 days before the party I sent out the invitations. A simple email, telling the occasion, date(Friday November 7th) and time(7:30 - 10:30 pm). And mentioning that this will be a Pajama party and the girls could sleep over if they wanted. I wasn't expecting anyone to accept the sleepover invitation, considering the fact that most of the parents didn't know me. But SEVEN out of the 13 girls we invited, decided to sleep over. And 12 accepted the invitation. The 13th girl couldn't come because of a sore throat.

On the day of the party, I almost didn't do anything the whole day. Just cleaned up a little bit here and there. Then started cleaning at 4, and was done by 6 with J and S' help. At 6:10 or so I stepped out to get some party supplies which included popcorn (they were going to watch a movie) and some other snacks, nailpolish, nail files and nailpolish remover for the girls who were going to sleep over (found these cute little bottles in funky colors, which the girls got to take home), an icecream cake and pizza that J had ordered over the phone. I was an epitome of efficiency that day - was back with ALL the supplies by 7:20! It included stopping at the bakery of the supermarket to add S' name to the cake.

All in all, the girls had mega fun. I never knew 10 year old girls could put away so much pizza, cheesy bread and soda/juice. AND bagsful of popcorn after eating all that! But I was well prepared. We didn't run out of food even the next morning when all the girls had breakfast before leaving. For once I was glad that my freezer and pantry are ALWAYS full of food. I didn't even have to run out for milk. Toaster Strudels, waffles, Cheerios and milk - and 8 happy (not so) little (anymore) girls.

The sleepover was fun, even if very tiring. After the others left, I handed out the nail colors and they set out to color each other's nails. Some found a few board games and played while a few others watched TV. NO arguments, NO fights, NO cattiness. The best behaved bunch of girls I have ever seen. At 12 I started sending them to brush their teeth one by one. At 12:20 or so, S oppened her gifts. Then lights out at 1 am. And then multiple reminders to the girls to go to sleep and stop shouting. Then I told them that if they woke the baby with their loud voices, she will be ALL THEIRS till the morning. THAT did the trick :) They still didn't go to sleep right away but talked only in whispers. Finally every last one of them dozed off, and I popped myself some popcorn, surfed the net and then went to sleep at 2:30 am.

All in all - a very exciting night, some good fun and a surge of confidence for mom and dad. We are now planning to have these pajama parties every now and then.

Here are a few pics:

The Cake

Watching the movie:

M settles down with Big Sis to watch the movie:

I am a big girl now

In April '08, I flew to India for my mom's retirement party. All alone. No husband to chaperon me, no children to be chaperoned. A cousin arranged a taxi for me to go to Jaipur (from New Delhi), from where I caught a train to Jodhpur. I had never travelled alone in India so this was a big deal for me. I thought I had finally "grown up". I was a Big girl. It seems I was wrong. Turns out one becomes a Big Girl, or a Big Boy, within moments when one loses a parent.

So, I grew up and became a Big Girl on October 4th, 2008. 11:45 pm IST. Pa was in a hospital (one of the best in the region, by the way), awaiting a bypass surgery which was scheduled for Monday, October 6th, when he experienced a massive heart attack. He was taken to the ICU within three minutes, but nothing could save him. Even in his last moments, he did what he had been doing all his life - worried about his wife, my mother. He told the doctors "Meri wife ka dhyaan rakhna, wo bahut jaldi ghabra jaati hain" [take care of my wife, she gets scared easily] And then he left. Just like that.

He experienced angina pains one morning when he was out on his daily walk. He got chest pains, started sweating and then got nauseous. He rested on a bench for a bit and then walked to a nearby nursing home. There, the doctors administered an ECG and determined he was having angina pains. They had someone drop him off at home with the instructions to rest and see a cardiologist as soon as possible. When he saw one, he was advised to get an angiography done for which he and Ma decided to go to Jaipur. We were all hoping that it would turn out be some minor blockage that could be treated/controlled with medication. But against all hopes, it turned out that he had 90% blockage in three arteries. Bypass surgery was required and one was scheduled as soon as enough blood of his blood group (A-) was secured. This was on Saturday evening. Soon after that he suffered the heart attack.

He was in the hospital (in Jaipur) for 4 days. I spoke to him multiple times every day. Even during all this health scare he was his usual jocular self - he told J that all this was his ploy to get Ma to part with the money she received upon retiring. He told Ma that he was having all the heart trouble due to the stress that was caused by Ma constantly breaking all his records in Mahjong. On the morning of October 4th, he told me he was surprised how much food the hospital gave him - which meant he must have been eating very little earlier (he did lose a few kgs in 15 days).

It is beginning to sink in that I will never see him again. I still remember how his big, rough hands made me feel like a little girl. Even at the age of 38. His awkward hugs made my heart melt. That won't happen again. I will never again hear a message from him saying "Haan Cee, mai bol raha hu.....". I will not hear a "Happy Birthday" or a "Happy New Year" from him ever again. What a price to pay for growing up!!