“There is no way out.`”

My head kept regurgitating that to me. That was the only thought playing back and forth over and over again in my mind. I thought I could will myself to death with those words. But, I could not. I had a mother. I had to get better. For her, I had to. I had to take care of her. I had to take care of myself.

Being bereaved of her life partner, her husband, it was big enough of a blow for my mother, and I could not have added more of scathing tribulations to her life with my bereavement. It would have crushed her to nothing. The evils in the paternal family would have made her living a gruesome and deplorable hell. I could not have given her that future.

Rather, I had to secure her a stable living with lots of reasons to cherish and celebrate life despite having lost her husband, my father. I had to do it. And, for that, I had to firstly, gain hold of my life, act mature, be wise and be more tenacious than I ever was. I had to be all of those things because until then Papa had been the protector and guardian our family needed.

And, now even if I was not fully prepared to be the protector and the guardian of the family, I had to at least be some of those things (Today, I am more of a protector, while mother is the guardian). I had to become something that would have strengthened my beloved mother who in her early 40s had just been bereaved of her partner in the middle of her life.

To take care of her, I had to figure out how to get out of the dark, deep and murky hole of misery that my father’s departure had pushed us into. For the first time in my life, I had to explore myself inside out to understand my life better and identify what particular actions at that state would not only ensure that I succeed in my pursuit to satiate my mother, but achieve a lot more than that.

That was when it all began to click. When everything changed. When I realized that it was a task that nobody else was going to do for me. No friends, family, love or strangers could help, save, change or guide me then. At that precise moment, I had to reinvent myself. I had to recreate myself.

And, I had to craft out myself in such a way that I blossom into a person who his mother could look up to just the way she used to look up to her husband. She could rely on him, cry on his shoulders, seek his counsel, and depend on his words. She trusted on his words more than anything. And, now I had to transform into someone with whom she could continue to live just the same way. Someone who she could eventually leave all her ordeals and worries to.

And, if I was to do all of that and transform into that kind of a person, then I had to survive, thrive, and believe in my own might and capabilities. It was a must. As low as my confidence had been hitherto then, this realization I aforementioned was enough to strengthen me mentally and raise my confidence levels to an unprecedented height.

At times I would even question myself if I was being too ambitious with my targets and transformation given I my life was a mess. It was trash and miserable to be true. I had never just been the son any parent would have wanted. Those were the days I often call my nadir. And, I had been aiming to become someone more than that ideal son which I had never been.

But, every time this thought crossed my mind, I somehow suppressed that thought for I had to be the light my mother could charter her further journey in life with. And, for that, I could not compromise on any grounds of self-transformation I had decided to conquer. I had to transform my living, and there was no other option. Why? Because my mother deserved all of that.

And, the zeal and intent to give my mother all she deserved kept me alive. That made me a better self I am today who is in a pursuit to just earn his mother endless reasons to smile, cherish this living, and be proud of her son. I am not that utopian self I aimed to become back in June 2014, when my father had departed. Not yet.

But, being the judge of my own transformation, I have come a long way, and, I definitely have what it takes to get there. And, this belief in self is what empowers me to strive to be a better person every day.

That’s how losing my hero, my father changed my life. Earlier I lived to please my will, no matter if my parents would be displeased and impacted severely by my acts. But, I will never be the same.

And, I now have something to be proud of myself for. My life has a meaning.



Related Reading: From Zero to Hero- How I reinvented myself!

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