My heart broke today. It’s probably the gazillionth time it has done so. Each time it’s a new cut, each time the pain is different.
I met my old school nun, she is 94. I was lucky to meet her, or maybe I wasn’t… it would have spared me this fresh wound; nevertheless, I met her, albeit briefly. The sisters came down from Murree and were enroute to Toba Tek Singh. The half hour window in between was what I got. Mother Andrew lives mostly in the past, luckily she recognised me, said “ah Amber, I have missed you”… but then was talking to the Amber I was more than 40 years ago. In a strange way, I enjoyed going back too, asked her about the nuns long gone, who were alive in her memory and strangely comforting for me. Sister Clotilde was still in the dormitory, Sister Marie Rose in the kitchen. For a while both Mother Andrew and I were back somewhere in time, she my teacher and me the precocious teen. I realised it is still all there in a parallel dimension. I feel like I went in a time machine and for a few brief moments, the lightness of being returned. When back, I felt healed and at peace. Though sad for Mother Andrew but then, she is in a happy place of long ago. Where the equal music plays and where time stands still. Needless to say, my heart has a fresh crack in it.
Story and picture by Amber Rashid Khan