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Personal Letter
An open letter to Mom…
I've learned so much from you. This letter is my attempt to memorialize those lessons:
I've learned so much from you. This letter is my attempt to memorialize those lessons:
In 1978, you hopped on a plane in Bangalore with a one-way ticket to America.
Your parents were—understandably—quite worried that you'd never come home.
Their friends told them you'd meet a guy, fall in love, and build a life.
Well, you did that—but it wasn't quite so linear.
Your parents were—understandably—quite worried that you'd never come home.
Their friends told them you'd meet a guy, fall in love, and build a life.
Well, you did that—but it wasn't quite so linear.
You met a guy and fell in love—but it made no sense.
He was from a different world. White, Jewish, from the Bronx.
It made no sense. Your friends told you that, his family told you that, your family told you that.
But it made sense to you, and that was all that mattered.
He was from a different world. White, Jewish, from the Bronx.
It made no sense. Your friends told you that, his family told you that, your family told you that.
But it made sense to you, and that was all that mattered.
Lesson 1: If it makes sense to you, that's all that matters.
In 1982, you married that man.
Lakshmi Reddy & David Bloom—names that clearly represent the unlikely collision of worlds.
In a lesson that pre-dates my life, you taught me to follow my own code, not someone else's.
In 1982, you married that man.
Lakshmi Reddy & David Bloom—names that clearly represent the unlikely collision of worlds.
In a lesson that pre-dates my life, you taught me to follow my own code, not someone else's.
You had your first child—Sonali, a girl—in 1987, and you said she was *your whole world*.
You had your second—Sahil, a boy—in 1991, and you said *your world felt whole*.
Sahil means "the end of the journey”—a sign that two kids was clearly enough!
You had your second—Sahil, a boy—in 1991, and you said *your world felt whole*.
Sahil means "the end of the journey”—a sign that two kids was clearly enough!
Lesson 2: It's the tiny, meaningless moments that mean the most.
My strongest memories with you aren't the vacations, parties, or events.
Instead, I remember the small, silly things:
My strongest memories with you aren't the vacations, parties, or events.
Instead, I remember the small, silly things:
You trying to play catch with me in the backyard when Dad was working late.
You taking me to construction sites to observe the equipment with fascination.
You taking me to the Natural History Museum to see the dinosaurs I was obsessed with.
Tiny moments that mean everything.
You taking me to construction sites to observe the equipment with fascination.
You taking me to the Natural History Museum to see the dinosaurs I was obsessed with.
Tiny moments that mean everything.
Lesson 3: A family that eats together, stays together.
Growing up, we had family dinner—every single weeknight.
That can't have been easy for you.
You worked a full time job, but you always managed to make a delicious dinner for all of us to enjoy.
Growing up, we had family dinner—every single weeknight.
That can't have been easy for you.
You worked a full time job, but you always managed to make a delicious dinner for all of us to enjoy.
It's not the food I remember. It's the time together.
Going around the table, talking about our days. The good, the bad, and everything in between.
I sometimes resented not having TV dinner like my friends—but I get it now.
Eat together, stay together.
Going around the table, talking about our days. The good, the bad, and everything in between.
I sometimes resented not having TV dinner like my friends—but I get it now.
Eat together, stay together.
Lesson 4: Love the kid you have, not the kid you want.
Once I reached my teenage years, it was clear I was not the studious boy you had dreamed of.
You grew increasingly frustrated as report cards littered with non-As came in.
There were no PhDs or MDs in this boy's future!
Once I reached my teenage years, it was clear I was not the studious boy you had dreamed of.
You grew increasingly frustrated as report cards littered with non-As came in.
There were no PhDs or MDs in this boy's future!
I remember the conversation we had after I got a B+ in Physics my freshman year of high school.
You explained to me that it wasn't about the grade, it was about achieving up to my potential—which you knew was very high.
I told you that I just had to figure it out for myself.
You explained to me that it wasn't about the grade, it was about achieving up to my potential—which you knew was very high.
I told you that I just had to figure it out for myself.
Something clicked.
You were an independent, mischievous spirit—maybe you saw that your son had inherited it.
From that day forward, I felt we understood each other.
I felt that you loved & supported the kid you had, not the one you might have wanted.
It meant the world to me.
You were an independent, mischievous spirit—maybe you saw that your son had inherited it.
From that day forward, I felt we understood each other.
I felt that you loved & supported the kid you had, not the one you might have wanted.
It meant the world to me.
A few years later, I called you with the news that I had been accepted to Stanford University—with a baseball scholarship no less.
My less than stellar GPA and ok SAT scores offset in the eyes of the admission department by a somewhat unique ability to throw a ball.
Go figure!
My less than stellar GPA and ok SAT scores offset in the eyes of the admission department by a somewhat unique ability to throw a ball.
Go figure!
I'll never forget the joy, pride, and perhaps subtle hint of pain in your voice when I told you that news.
You knew how much it meant to me.
You also knew how far away it was.
The same pain your parents felt when their baby had flown to America all those years ago...
You knew how much it meant to me.
You also knew how far away it was.
The same pain your parents felt when their baby had flown to America all those years ago...
Lesson 5: There's nothing like a mother's love.
In my 4 years playing at Stanford, I don't think you saw me throw a single pitch.
You couldn't stand to see your baby under so much pressure—alone.
You became known for pacing outside the stadium when I would come into the game.
In my 4 years playing at Stanford, I don't think you saw me throw a single pitch.
You couldn't stand to see your baby under so much pressure—alone.
You became known for pacing outside the stadium when I would come into the game.
In 2011, a North Carolina fan saw you pacing outside their stadium while I pitched during Super Regionals.
They told you I was doing fine.
You charmed them as usual. They left saying "Sahil" was a cool name for their next grandson.
I still laugh thinking about that…
They told you I was doing fine.
You charmed them as usual. They left saying "Sahil" was a cool name for their next grandson.
I still laugh thinking about that…
There's simply nothing like a mother's love.
You felt everything through me.
I never understood it until I saw my own child on our first ultrasound.
That feeling of unconditional, relentless love—so real and visceral—amplified by the mother physically carrying the child.
You felt everything through me.
I never understood it until I saw my own child on our first ultrasound.
That feeling of unconditional, relentless love—so real and visceral—amplified by the mother physically carrying the child.
I always wondered why you got so emotional at random life events—big and small.
It was sort of embarrassing for me.
Now I get it. Now I get you.
A mother's love is like nothing else in the world.
I may never fully understand it, but I have the deepest respect for it.
It was sort of embarrassing for me.
Now I get it. Now I get you.
A mother's love is like nothing else in the world.
I may never fully understand it, but I have the deepest respect for it.
Lesson 6: Always make time for what truly matters.
You're the most charming and vibrant person I've ever met.
When you're around, there's bound to be family, friends, laughs, dancing, and fun.
You've never let anything get in the way of what truly matters.
You're the most charming and vibrant person I've ever met.
When you're around, there's bound to be family, friends, laughs, dancing, and fun.
You've never let anything get in the way of what truly matters.
You complained to me recently that you and Dad hadn't made enough money—that you didn't have the glamorous lives that some of your friends did.
To me, you're the richest people in the world.
Surrounded by love—never more than a moment away from a dance, a laugh, and a smile.
To me, you're the richest people in the world.
Surrounded by love—never more than a moment away from a dance, a laugh, and a smile.
There's a line in a movie that I loved: "Boys always come back for their Mamas."
When we moved back from California in 2021, that was me...coming back to my Mama.
As I sit here on the verge of fatherhood—I can proudly say I am a Mama's Boy.
I love you forever.
- Your Son
When we moved back from California in 2021, that was me...coming back to my Mama.
As I sit here on the verge of fatherhood—I can proudly say I am a Mama's Boy.
I love you forever.
- Your Son
Happy Mother’s Day to all the amazing Mamas out there.
You are incredible.
You are incredible.
My hope is that this open letter sparks more people to do the same.
Our time is limited.
Tell your people how much you love them. Tell them how much they mean to you.
While we still can.
Our time is limited.
Tell your people how much you love them. Tell them how much they mean to you.
While we still can.
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