Soon after her second daughter was born, Sree lost her mother. Read her story.

It was a serene evening even after I struggled for 17 long hours in the hospital attempting to deliver my second daughter. My parents, thousands of miles away, were praying for an easy delivery. Just when the nurses were getting ready for a C-section, the much-awaited moment came. Our precious angel decided to make her entry into this world. A new life had begun.

I called my parents from the hospital. They were relieved to hear my voice, and delighted to hear about the little one.

Little did I realise that those tears of joy were short-lived. After returning home from the hospital, I was immobilized with excruciating lower back pain; my pregnancy and delivery had taken its toll on me. I attended the first physical therapy session and began my exercises at home. That same evening, the phone rang. It was my father. He called with serious news, but I could not get out of the bed and talk to him. My father was unaware of my immobility. He had to explain to my husband that my mother was dying.

Life's choices are strange. Should I leave my newborn without her mother, or should I leave my dying mother alone without her only daughter. It didn't take long for me to make the right decision. I took the first flight to see my dying mother. I figured I had the next twenty years or so with my daughter but will probably have only a few more hours with my mother.

A few years ago when I told my mother that she might not have any biological grandchildren, I expected her to break down. But my mother surprised me. She looked straight into my eyes and said that I would do a noble job if I adopted a needy child and raised her as my very own. But as the miracle of life would have it, she did see her first biological granddaughter with her own eyes. And just when she was getting ready to welcome her second biological grandchild, God had a change of plans. God loved my mother and wanted to take her home.

My mother did her last maternal job right. She had mentally prepared me to face her death. Not every mother would do this for her kids, but my mother was strong and organised. She wanted to make sure she told us everything we needed to know when she was healthy and stable. But she never gave up on life. She fought like a brave warrior until the very end, and at the same time did not leave missing holes for me.

For a new life to begin, another life has to end. The older generation must exit to make way for the newer generation. I understand that philosophically. But at a time when I should be celebrating the birth of my newborn, I am mourning the death of my mother. This unique situation is extremely difficult. I've had to experience both the highs of joy and the lows of sorrow. I had read in books, 'Life is short. Enjoy it.' But now I really know this truth for myself.

The love we share lasts forever, but our time on earth is too short. The woman who saw my first smile, who first gave me her warmth, who I first learned from, whom I leaned on and loved the most, and who left me with evergreen memories, will remain with me through her grandchildren. She has left behind an immortal treasure her genes.