How many daughters get to witness the birth of their mother?

                                              miracle.jpg

My childhood was a dream. I had two doting parents, an abundance of friends and family around all the time. Love was showered in never-ending waterfalls. We were a family who had everything and yet no more than what we needed. We were what I would always think of as a ‘normal average family’ and I was quite happy with my self-coined term. That was until my father died. My strong, brave, invincible father died of a heart attack playing his favourite game. Then life went ape shit.

They say that God dishes out to the people who are strong enough to take it. They say that the old has to move out to make way for the new. They say that we keep living out our life patterns or scripts until we learn the lessons set out for us. All this is well and good, but what if you travel the road and still don’t see the signs? In the seven years since my father has been gone, our family has lost its way. And now my mother needs a heart transplant. How frightening is that. A HEART TRANSPLANT.

When I think about it, I want to laugh as much as cry. What happened to the ‘normal average family’? This was NOT part of my plan. My plan was to get married, have kids, drop my kids over to my parents’ house, work a job, and mark my kids’ growth on the wall every year along with counting the silver hair on my parents’ heads. The question is – was that really what I wanted deep inside or is what is happening now a true reflection of what I wanted out of my life? Not an ordinary life, but an extraordinary one?

If my father had not left us, we would never have had the chance to grow and blossom beyond his protective shade. If my father had not left us neither would I have written a book or sold an idea, conceived of my promise to him and my own pain, twice over to two large corporates. So does this really prove that there are lessons set out for us to learn even at a painful cost?

Do you believe that larger forces are at work in our lives? In Destiny? In Angels? In Miracles? I am a Believer. I have always believed in the strange, the occult, the unexplained and my life seems to be proving the unexplained to me every day. Just before my mother’s condition started getting worse, I joined one of Asia’s largest healthcare chains. This is called Destiny. Here I found people who held me up, sheltered me and carried me on my road when I couldn’t walk anymore on my own. It was instant recognition. Safety. Security. Familiarity. Like I had known them forever. They are called Angels. How is it possible that my Destiny and my Angels appeared at that very time when life seemed to be playing a cruel joke on me? That is called a Miracle.

So when people ask me how I have the strength to laugh in the face of such adversity and to turn my pain into positivity, I tell them what I see. That I am lucky enough to be faced with challenges and I will be lucky enough to be able to look back and be proud of what I have overcome. This is my Destiny. My Angels are here to help me and I will get my Miracle. No. I was not meant for an ordinary or a normal life. Deep inside, I didn’t want that. I came from extraordinary parents and I was meant for the extraordinary. After all, how many daughters get to witness the birth of their mother?

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