An ode to a mother

Another successful conference, another triumphant talk, another fruitful meeting, and yet another handshake that is shaken but not stirred. As the routine of travel sets in, I cannot help but reminisce about how this day feels slightly different. The kaleidoscope of a life dedicated to service and tackling life's grand challenges seems somewhat cathartic today.

Today, like the exact same day over the last seven years, I cannot escape a sense of sadness amid the optimism of a fulfilling job. At the age of 60, she departed from this physical world after a decade of reliance and faith in medical sciences and treatments that her sons fervently tried to combat. Cancer is a merciless adversary, yet it felt too premature; she had laid the foundations for an entire family to flourish and exponentially contribute to the service of others.

An academic, tireless socialist, feminist, but above all, a working mother—she instilled the value of service in us from a young age. "It is better to have served and gone than to have languished through the years with little to show," she would say. An architect by profession, she pursued further postgraduate studies in the development of health policy for the elderly, specifically focusing on ethnic minority elderly. 

Growing up, we didn't fully comprehend what that meant. All we knew was that mom would leave early as we departed for school and return late, ensuring we had a family meal together.

It wasn't until 2000 that we grasped the significance of her tireless work when she was honoured as a Member of The British Empire (MBE) by the late Queen Elizabeth II for her contributions to health and elderly care. She provided a framework enabling elderly people from all communities to have lunch clubs, support, nursing in their times of need, and independence at their most vulnerable moments. This framework became a national policy and continues to exist to this day.

During school holidays, she occasionally took us to a lunch club for the elderly in our town. Around 100 elderly men and women participated in weekly activities, preparing local foods like Gujrati ladies, Punjabi aloo, Bengali fish, and South Indian dosa, creating a United Nations for food lovers. 

We, as young boys, were greeted by 100 grandmothers and grandfathers, all beaming with happiness to see us. One by one, they laid their hands on our heads, saying, "I hope you continue to help those who need it most, boys, like your mom." We smiled and dug into the food, not fully aware of the gravity of the task.

As I skip the in-flight food for a few winks, I can't help but ponder: with all our great intellect, and scientific, and medical firepower, how do we touch the lives of our broader communities and those whom we often forget? Ageing has been deemed a disease; we claim to fight it as science begins to spin, promising treatments for eternal youth. But for what purpose?

Do we forget that, like all organic matter, our footprint will not resemble that of astronauts on the moon? Like the caressing waves gently approaching one's feet, paying homage to the warm sands we pass on, we will all leave one day, leaving no footprint to search for. I may know how to save that individual; that heart is able to beat again, Indefinable pounding for them to see their loved ones again. 

But how can I reach the wider community, the broader society—those we forget? I don't think I can, but mom could, and therein lies the power of humanity that speaks much louder than our apparent omnipotence of a science we all hold dear.

A life cut short at a time of great need, yet the foundations she instilled propel us to strive much harder now than ever before. Humanity and kindness reach far, far further than anything we can conjure. Lest we forget, our parents set the potential for us to do all we can, but to do it justice, we must continue pushing ourselves further for our internal betterment. Thanks, Mom!

Professor Rameen Shakur MD PhD (Cantab) FRSA FIBMS FRSPH FRSB is a professor of genomics and cardiovascular medicine and Director of the precision health and translational medicine centre, University of Brighton, UK.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.