They call it love at first sight. An attraction to beauty. But the greatest case of love at first sight, I believe is that first-time meeting of mother and her child. The two are both a mess, and the two can already tell they are going to be best friends. At least that’s how it was with me and my mom. Well, actually I don’t quite remember, but I like to think of it that way.

            When I was young my parents never took me to Disneyland, even though it was merely twenty minutes away. Instead, we sponsored a kid just like me in India. They always told me that the true joy comes from smiles not belonging to you. So they never took me to Disneyland, no, they took me to Mars and to Jupiter and to the bottom of the ocean. Because you don’t need money and sunscreen to travel; you need a plane called imagination and a few willing passengers.

            I was thirteen years old when my father died. The world around me crashed down into a million pieces, into shards of glass. I never wanted to walk again for fear of piercing my heel. And so I didn’t. For five months I said not a single word. I couldn’t speak, but I also didn’t want to speak. I wanted to go somewhere far, like Mars or Jupiter or the bottom of the ocean, but my passenger was missing. My spaceship, my submarine, everything was so empty? My grades didn’t even drop. My father died but it wasn’t even a big enough tragedy for me to throw away school. I wanted him to matter more. After five months I was reminded that she was still there. There was a guitar on my bed along with a note. “Learn. Sing. Dad misses your voice.” I left my mom alone, I was so foolish. I let her be miserable, I let myself be miserable. I only want those five months back now.

            My mother always told me that she loved me around the world three times. It never occurred to me why, but I’ve never met grandparents from her side. Why was she even staying at that house