I read through it quickly, my eyes darting over every line, afraid I might miss something. Then I printed out the forms, signed them, scanned them, and sent them back. I tapped my fingers on the table while I waited, unable to keep still.
Minutes later, another email came through confirming the date and time.
The meeting would be the following Saturday at 6 p.m.
My prayers were finally answered.
All those years of waiting and not knowing, of guessing and second-guessing, of building stories in my head and tearing them down again, were finally leading somewhere. I was finally going to get answers.
Then a final email appeared with my mother’s details.
I read it slowly, taking in each word as if it might somehow make her more real before I met her.
Karena Townsend
Age – 47
Occupation – Travel Agency Owner
Ethnicity – Indian
Nationality – Canadian
Lives in Vancouver with her husband and two children
I immediately Googled her. There were multiple results, and I clicked through them hungrily, wanting a glimpse of what she looked like, what kind of life she had built, who she had become before I ever stepped into it. I wanted to know something, anything, before I met her face-to-face.
I was desperate to tell someone.
The first face that popped into my head was Cole’s.
I grabbed my phone and dialled his number.
The moment he answered, I all but shrieked into the phone, “Cole, they found my mother! They found my mother! She’s coming to see me next weekend.”
He listened patiently while my words tumbled over themselves in a rush. After telling me he was happy for me, he said, “Let’s continue the conversation at dinner tomorrow.”
“Gosh, the weather is crazy,”Cole said as soon as he stepped in.
“Yes, I saw the thunderstorms coming in from the restaurant,” I replied.
Earlier, I had watched the tar-black sky roll in and heard the pitter-patter of rain against the windows. People had been running for cover as the clouds spat beads of water onto the streets. I had been grateful I was not out on a boat that evening. I had said a silent prayer for those who were, hoping they would all return safe and sound.
Over a cup of green tea after dinner, Cole and I discussed the much-awaited topic. The excitement that had carried methrough the day softened when I noticed his face turn serious. He leaned inward and looked directly at me.
“I’m happy for you, Jiya. Please don’t take this the wrong way. Try not to get your hopes up too high and expect too much from the first meeting with her.”
I sat back and considered his words carefully.
He did make sense. He was being practical, not cruel.
Life had taught me enough by then to know that not everything ended in daisies and hearts.
“Your face looks like I dropped your ice cream on the floor,” he said.
I looked back at him and smiled despite myself, shaking my head.
“I understand why you’ve said this,” I told him. “I barely know the woman, and I shouldn’t get too excited.” I placed my fingers between my parted lips and took a breath. “You’re right.”
