Last Friday, my dada (grandfather) passed away peacefully in South Africa. We knew he was getting older and weaker, and he talked about “kicking the bucket” all the time - he was ready to go. I’m grateful that he did not suffer and that he was with family who loved him dearly. And I’m also happy that he had a chance to see me become a mother and spend time with his great grandchildren. Perhaps most of all, I’m thankful to have grown up with him. He and my Ba came to the United States to live with my parents one month before I was born. He was always there. He played with us and held us. He carried me on his shoulders to “Dongona” (what baby Tina called McDonald’s). He took us to school and practices in his giant gold Cadillac (the “jumbo jet”). Sometimes he would spoil us by buying us things our parents wouldn’t. He would amusingly watch us as we showed him what we bought at the mall and then tell us “I wouldn’t pay 10 cents for that!” He drove us to Atlanta and Florida and the beach on school holidays. He was always there. And as we became adults and moved away, we knew that coming home meant seeing him. He was always happy to see us. And we did what we could to be there for him even when life got busy. Something as simple as tapping a beach ball or balloon back and forth would make him smile so much. Having my son play in the same room as him would make his day (I’m sure he never dreamed of living long enough to meet his great grandchildren). I loved that he loved my husband. My traditional Indian grandfather loved my non-Indian white husband. Even before we were married, Richard would take the time to sit with Dada and talk to him (even though he was 95% deaf). One time he even watched Dada’s favorite Hindi movie with him - it did not have subtitles. Richard would take him to the bank, which usually turned into a trip to the wine store and probably a car dealership too. The two of them bonding meant the world to me. There are so many little things that I want to remember and hold on to. He was my Dada. And going home won’t be the same without him being there. I love you Dada and miss you so much.
Guess who’s 7 months old! #missmiradylan
I didn’t run this weekend. 5 miles was on my training plan but I just wasn’t up for it (read: I had a million excuses for why I didn’t wanna...waaaaah!). There were a bunch of things I needed to get done and it was pouring rain outside. The old me would have run in the rain and felt like a total badass for it. The Mommy me is currently fatigued and a little more accident prone. So, I didn’t run this weekend. But, I got all my shit done so I would have time today to get a run in. Today was a perfectly cool and cloudy day for a run, and I needed to clear my mind and get some jitters out. At first, my plan was just to get my sneakers on and go out 15 minutes and back 15 minutes. But when I got to 15 minutes, I felt like I could do more...so I ran further from home. And then after that, I realized I had more in me, so I went a little further. One mind game after another and before I knew it, I clocked in the 5 miles I was supposed to do this weekend. It was just what I needed before hopping on a plane for a quick work trip (but my first away from #missmiradylan). And because it’s #nationalyogamonth and my #slamsister @megreichert86 challenged me to strike a yoga pose, I’m doing cow face pose (is that what it’s called?) in the airport. 😝 Now I get to tag a few more mamas running #rockthecreekrelay and challenge them to get their yoga on. @s.l.a.m.dc @megan_mannina and @heatherdcrd - you’re up!
And just like that...baby girl is 6 months old. 😍 #missmiradylan #babygirl #6months