The Old Greeting Card

Sunayna Pal

Dad left us on 11-11-11. He was fond of being unique and stylish. I can see how he must have negotiated with God for that date. Although stylish, he was a reserved man. I sometimes wonder what must have happened to him to be this way.

We didn’t have the best relationship. Sometimes, it breaks my heart to see my hubby play with my son and to think that I never got that and never will. Things weren’t always so, I think I got busy with college in my teenage years, and he didn’t take any effort. We had become so weird around each other that one day I was coming from my office and he was out for a walk. We crossed roads but didn’t look each other in the eye.

In 2010, he complained of constant headaches for some time. On investigation, the doctor confirmed a malignant tumor in the brain. I was planning to study further, so I decided to leave my work to stay at home and be there for him and concentrate on my studies. During this time, I saw a softer and also a weaker side of him. It was scary and weird, but we slowly learned how to deal with each other. A part of me forgave him for nothing he had done.

After he was gone and after the emptiness became bearable, I cleaned his cupboards. It was a warm evening, and I thought I had finished everything. Then, I saw the black suitcase. It was his most valued thing in the house as it had all his important documents.

Almost every morning, as the sunlight filtered through the trees, the suitcase would open, and he would be closed to the world. He would sit with his tea on one side and the suitcase on the other. I had learned not to disturb him during this time.

During his illness, I must have opened it a few times to take out a checkbook or fixed deposit papers, but I never looked around. I was afraid that even in his illness, he would understand what I was doing and scold me. I remember, as a child, I wasn’t even allowed to touch it.

I think I subconsciously kept it for the last. I picked it up and sat on the edge of my dad’s bed. It opened with a slight creak which I had never heard before. I located the important paper file and kept them aside. I went ahead to see what else was there in the suitcase. I touched the vinyl pocket but drew my hand back. I looked at my dad’s empty bed, took a sigh and went ahead. I found some old visiting cards. Some manuals of machines I didn’t even know we possessed.

Behind them, I found a pink envelope. The paper was turning yellow, without thinking, I opened the flap and found a greeting card. I pulled the card out to notice the simple and cheap card paper. I opened it and saw the names Sunu and Kaku scribbled on the bottom. I then realized that it was a birthday card given to him by my sister and me when we were young. There was no date mentioned but I could say that it was old. I looked at it and tried to remember when or which year but couldn’t even recall giving it to him.

What was so special about this card? I checked if there were more. This was the only card we had given him, probably. I noticed the scribbled writing. I must be 7 or 8 years old. Why had he kept this card? I had no idea that he was a sentimental person. Why did he never express himself? I felt tears form in my eyes as I looked at the words “Dearest dad” written on them. All this while, he never mentioned it. Was it by accident? Why did he keep it with his important papers? Was it really important to him? Of course! I was important. A memory flashed in front of my eyes. I was receiving a certificate, and I found his face in the audience, beaming with pride. I saw my mother smiling too but there was something special on the face of my dad. I can still see that face. How could I have forgotten it? Why was I remembering it now? What good is it now?

I sighed and kept the card back in the suitcase. It belonged in the black bag - It is where it should be, with his important documents.