They were a young couple with a small child. They rented a room and started their first "shongshar" in Dhaka. That was 1973. Next week, she will be reaching USA with her 36 year old "shongshar", packed in two suitcases. My mom. A teacher. A grandma. A great mother. A widow. I still can't think of her as a widow.
I think relationships between parents and children change as the children enter different stages of their lives. I feel like I never got to know my parents as an adult myself. I left them in 1992, barely out of my teenage years. I didn't spend more then 6 months in a row with them since then. Now I would never have that chance with Abbu. That's why I am really looking forward to my mom spending some time with us. I've heard stories here and there, but this time I want to sit down and ask her questions, get all the details and engrave them in my memory.
Good thing memories don't get put into suitcases.