Two weeks ago, Usha and I [lifelong vegetarians] went to Costco and bought over 100 lbs. of canned chicken, chilli, and tuna products.
It all started a few weeks prior to that. On the eve of our 12th wedding anniversary, Usha made the surprise suggestion: how about, not buying any gifts this time?! Not knowing what she had in mind then, I was a bit dubious.
We live in me-first world, not helped by choosing to reside in unabashedly capitalistic America. Anniversary and special occasions mean showering each other with gifts. As if love, somehow, is not enough.
What Usha really had in mind was charity. After recovering from that initial surprise, there were some hours of research [painless really, thanks to google] to identify the organization to donate to. Usha was also clear that Aakash had to be part of this process. Look around you, the wonderful/ innocent/ gentle creatures that our kids are, they are also - shockingly - materialistic. Not knowing anything different and since we like to spoil them having ourselves been deprived in childhood, the kids are certainly not to blame. We were also clear that we did not want to just swipe a credit card to make an online donation and get instant karma.
And so we picked an organization called Lakeview Pantry on the west side of Chicago, that provides groceries and other essentials for needy families walking in to the pantry.
After a couple of calls to verify what would be most useful [protein!], we took Aakash along to Costco to buy cartons of chicken, chilli, mandarin oranges, and tuna. He had fun adding up the costs and pounds of purchase, not to mention the thrill of picking up new items never seen in our shopping cart before. Somewhere along the way there, the gravitas of what we were doing, slowly sunk in [Why are we buying meat? How much will each family get? What will the kids eat?].
Growing up, acts of generosity and selflessness always swirled around me. I have read somewhere that after a person dies, the voice of that person is next to die from your memory. And so, mom's selfless nature and her acts of generosity are all I am able to summon when I think of her. And those stories about her are what I especially like to share with Aakash [and I don’t do this nearly enough].
I am quite fortunate though. Sometimes, I have to rub my eyes to convince myself how lucky Aakash is to have the mom he has, as I was to have mine. Usha is such an uncanny replica of mom that I feel for her, more than I do for myself, that she lost someone so special so early.
Carrying all the food to the pantry and entrusting it to the efficient and youthful staff at Lakeview felt really nice and the warm feeling lasted for days. There’s a promise made to ourselves to repeat the deed at least a few times a year and hopefully we are also building a young man’s character in the process.
So many thoughts, but just a couple more in conclusion. I hope we can start a conversation on this page.
What exactly are immigrants thinking, to donate in a country they can’t even call their own? For better or worse, this is where we live now and we’re fortunate to be privileged enough that we can do this.
Have I somehow diluted the deed by publishing it on social media? Again, there’s a nod to mom here. Besides being selfless, she was also extremely gregarious; that I'm using both those traits to describe the same person is borderline illegal, no? She did not have social media back then [not that she would have needed it], I don’t have her gregarious personality [and never will].
It all started a few weeks prior to that. On the eve of our 12th wedding anniversary, Usha made the surprise suggestion: how about, not buying any gifts this time?! Not knowing what she had in mind then, I was a bit dubious.
We live in me-first world, not helped by choosing to reside in unabashedly capitalistic America. Anniversary and special occasions mean showering each other with gifts. As if love, somehow, is not enough.
What Usha really had in mind was charity. After recovering from that initial surprise, there were some hours of research [painless really, thanks to google] to identify the organization to donate to. Usha was also clear that Aakash had to be part of this process. Look around you, the wonderful/ innocent/ gentle creatures that our kids are, they are also - shockingly - materialistic. Not knowing anything different and since we like to spoil them having ourselves been deprived in childhood, the kids are certainly not to blame. We were also clear that we did not want to just swipe a credit card to make an online donation and get instant karma.
And so we picked an organization called Lakeview Pantry on the west side of Chicago, that provides groceries and other essentials for needy families walking in to the pantry.
After a couple of calls to verify what would be most useful [protein!], we took Aakash along to Costco to buy cartons of chicken, chilli, mandarin oranges, and tuna. He had fun adding up the costs and pounds of purchase, not to mention the thrill of picking up new items never seen in our shopping cart before. Somewhere along the way there, the gravitas of what we were doing, slowly sunk in [Why are we buying meat? How much will each family get? What will the kids eat?].
Growing up, acts of generosity and selflessness always swirled around me. I have read somewhere that after a person dies, the voice of that person is next to die from your memory. And so, mom's selfless nature and her acts of generosity are all I am able to summon when I think of her. And those stories about her are what I especially like to share with Aakash [and I don’t do this nearly enough].
I am quite fortunate though. Sometimes, I have to rub my eyes to convince myself how lucky Aakash is to have the mom he has, as I was to have mine. Usha is such an uncanny replica of mom that I feel for her, more than I do for myself, that she lost someone so special so early.
Carrying all the food to the pantry and entrusting it to the efficient and youthful staff at Lakeview felt really nice and the warm feeling lasted for days. There’s a promise made to ourselves to repeat the deed at least a few times a year and hopefully we are also building a young man’s character in the process.
So many thoughts, but just a couple more in conclusion. I hope we can start a conversation on this page.
What exactly are immigrants thinking, to donate in a country they can’t even call their own? For better or worse, this is where we live now and we’re fortunate to be privileged enough that we can do this.
Have I somehow diluted the deed by publishing it on social media? Again, there’s a nod to mom here. Besides being selfless, she was also extremely gregarious; that I'm using both those traits to describe the same person is borderline illegal, no? She did not have social media back then [not that she would have needed it], I don’t have her gregarious personality [and never will].
