Ghungroo - The Siren Call of Lovers (#2)

Chapter 45 - My little Bhudda

Song Credit- 'You're Gonna Be', by Reba MacEntire.

So many kinds of love that fill up this world, and no love is stronger than a mother's love for her child.

Chapter 45

Two years, three months.

No, it's not how long since Riaan left. I stopped that count a long time ago.

Two years, three months is how old my little baby boy, Dhani is. My saving grace, the apple of my eye, my chubby little Buddha that grounds me and makes me whole.

He is named after the sixth and seventh notes of the Indian musical scale, 'dha' and 'ni'. An appropriate name since he is perfect in every way. Like a symphony of beautiful notes strung together to complete a beautiful song.

It took me forever to find the name Dhani, pronounced Danny. I had to find a name that fitted well with the rest of his heavily Dutch-accented name. Dhani Fredriche Zietman. Yes, that's my boy!

I named him after his dad. In part, anyway. I could not deny my son that part of himself. Sometimes, a sadness engulfs me when I think that this is all he will ever have of his father. The name of a person who left. It was Riaan's choice to leave and my pride prevents me from telling him that he has a son. It is a thought that punches me in the gut each and every day. My only solice is that Dhani was the product of love.

I'm sure Riaan did love me in his own way, right? I mean, I have to think this for my own sanity. And now, my love alone will be enough to sustain our child.

Searching for a name really made me realize how odd a pair Riaan and I made. Why could I not see this before? Our realities are millions of miles apart. We stood no chance ever, of having a life together. That was just wishful thinking. An adolescent infatuation that was nothing more than fascination for the other.

And yet...yet we managed to create something perfect in all of our chaos and hurt. Dhani is perfect. All my stressing about the harmful substances I had consumed during my pregnancy was for nothing. He is my miracle baby that survived against all odds. He grew and thrived in my belly and came out perfect in every way. Ten fingers and ten toes.

The moment I saw him, I fell instantly in love. Not the kind of burning, hurting love I had for Riaan. No. This is a pure love. A centered and profound love. From the moment I held him in my arms for the first time, I felt complete and at peace with the world and myself. He is my saving grace. He is the reason I go on.

I place his tiny sleeping body in his car seat and for a second his eyes flutter open and he flashes me a frustrated glare before sleep engulfs him once more.

Fuck, that was a close one! Yeah, I still curse like a sailor in my head. I'm a mother now, not a saint. It's my therapy.

I'm learning very quickly that the terrible two's are a very real thing and that Dhani has quite a strong personality that he is starting to flex out and explore as his mind and body grows.

Yes, he is stubborn- just like his father. Possibly a gene that runs in their bloodline. So it's not just the name that Dhani shares with his father. He has the personality- and eyes - to match too. How could I forget the eyes? Let's not forget the eyes... They haunt me daily...

My son has the exact hard grey eyes of Riaan, and now that he has reached the two's, I see the blue and violet flecks that flare up when he's angry or frustrated.

His eyes are so much like Riaan's, that it catches me off guard each and every time, taking me back in time, and it takes everything in me not to fall back into that box of memories I had sealed and stored away years ago into the furthest part of my mind.