Appa

Appa is what you would call your father in tamil. Growing up as a little girl I called (or rather we-my siblings and I) called our father Papa instead (think we all must have had a pronounciation problem). This Saturday is the tribute to all the men we call Appa.

I still have an extremely strained relationship with my father(haven't seen him in years!). I dont blame him for it, I blame myself, because I am an unforgiving person (something that I am working hard at). Rather to speak ill of the man who gave me life, I choose think about the good times I can remember of him. Sadly none came to mind, trying hard to remember the good only brought about the pain and trauma he caused my loved ones. Dont get me wrong, my appa was not a wife batterer or a womaniser or drunk for that matter, he was.... lets just say a poor manager of his finances.

Nevertheless, each time I go before GOD I say an extremely simple prayer for my appa "GOD forgive him and keep him safe"

I do however have very fond and delightful memories of my mother's appa. My grandfather- he was tall dark and very handsome. His clothes were always neatly pressed and he was the kindest man I ever knew. He adored me and always thought I looked like a princess.

When I was getting married I wished with all my heart that he was there. He is the kind of father everyone deserved, my mother was not even his flesh and blood, neither was I. That is the kind of love my grandfather showered on me- unconditional and I miss him so terribly.

He may have passed on, but he remains fond in my heart and the good memories he left behind. Happy Father's Day.

Mornings we take for granted

Was talking to my husband on the way to work this morning about how my life has changed so much, after we got married. On weekdays we have a fixed routine for what we do and the mornings, especially are my mayhem moments. I am up by 6.30 am have my bath, prepare breakfast, pack lunch, do the dishes from breakfast and some days bring in the laundry. Then whilst Sean is having his breakfast, I dash to get changed and there we are at 7.30 leaving home for work. All of this never ever happens when I was single and staying with mom.

I never take the opportunity to realise what a beautiful morning that the Good man upstairs has created for me, not until this morning. I boarded the bus and I sat behind a young couple and their little boy. The boy must have been a at least 4 or 5 years old. His parents were dozing off to sleep, whereas the little boy looked out the window and everything little thing excited him. When the bus passed by a McDonalds restaurant he said most excitedly "WAAAAH!!! Mummy its McDonalds" and another junction where we caught in a bit of traffic, the little boy shrieked in excitement " Look!!! so many many cars!" and finally when the rain came down he went "oh look its raining! so nice Daddy! So nice....so much rain!"

I enjoyed my bus ride this morning, cos it made me stop and appreciate the little things we take for granted. I dont know how long I am going to "enjoy" my bus rides, but today it was good. All thanks to my little " Morning tour guide"

Take a moment and enjoy the beauty of the morning!

Lucky?? Not really Blessings......

As the wedding draws the near, even the tiniest of details demands attention from Sean & Me. So much so that we have silly arguments (pointless I tell you)........ We decided that we are going to see less of each other before the wedding (so that we dont get into each other's way), this way less arguments.

I tell you how this wedding and the new home is falling into place is really God's blessing. Friends have come forward, sleeves rolled up and all ready to be there for us.

Friends are blessings from GOD (that I strongly believe) and I must that I am blessed many times over.....

I thank God for his blessings!!