Hi, my name is Srilakshmi Kovvali.
But, I'm more familiar as
Before Healing Mom became a space for others, it was where I tried to survive my own storm. It grew from the days I spent caring for my daughter during her battle with a terminal illness. Writing became my way of holding strength and sorrow together, and those pages later grew into my novel, Thumbsucking. This space carries that journey and the love that shaped it.
Hi, my name is Srilakshmi Kovvali.
But, I'm more familiar as
Before Healing Mom became a space for others, it was where I tried to survive my own storm. It grew from the days I spent caring for my daughter during her battle with a terminal illness. Writing became my way of holding strength and sorrow together, and those pages later grew into my novel, Thumbsucking. This space carries that journey and the love that shaped it.
Keerthi
the toughest day.
The Little Girl Who
Lit Up My World
A bubble floating away. A new crayon shade. A silly giggle. That was all she needed to light up completely — and take everyone around her with her.
She loved deeply, hugged tightly, and had this warm way of making everyone feel like they had known her forever — from the very first moment.
Her laughter wasn't just sweet — it was healing. Even on the heaviest days, one smile from her made everything softer, lighter, and worth it.
She showed me, without words, that happiness isn't something you chase — it's something you create. One tiny moment at a time.
Whatever warmth you feel
on this page…
it's hers.
3 Moments That
Still Hold My Heart
Some memories come back like a soft breeze — warm, gentle, and full of her little magic. They aren't grand stories; they're the small, ordinary moments that still make my heart soften.
Our Nighttime World
Every night, when I tucked her in, she would curl into me, thumb in her mouth, and look into my eyes as if she could read everything I was feeling. Those quiet bedtime moments — the whispers, the giggles, the questions only a child could ask — became our safe little universe.
Painting the memory…
Her Little Mischiefs
She had a playful way of keeping life light, cooking imaginary meals in her toy kitchen or pulling us into endless rounds of hide and seek, her laughter filling the house. At bedtime, wrapped in quiet, soothing love, she would listen to stories where her father was the superhero, and to her, he truly was
Sketching the mischief…
The Words I Live By
Often she held me close, looking deeply into my eyes while gently sucking her thumb, as if she was trying to say something. She shared so much through those quiet moments and emotions. That journey of hers slowly grew into the space you see here today.
Drawing the love…
She Wanted to Be
free from medicines and hospitals
And to live a normal life going to school like other children. She dreamt of inventing a painless injection and of nurses who cared with empathy and gentle understanding.
“Amma… why do children suffer? Why do they get so many injections and medicines?”
From that question came her wish to become a doctor, to invent painless injections and medicines children would not be afraid of.
So no child would ever lie awake the night before, afraid of the needle.
Sweet potions instead of bitter ones. Because healing shouldn't taste like punishment.
She would teach every nurse to be gentle. Kindness as medicine. Love as treatment.
She Wanted to Be free from medicines and hospitals
And to live a normal life going to school like other children. She dreamt of inventing a painless injection and of nurses who cared with empathy and gentle understanding.
“Amma… why do children suffer? Why do they get so many injections and medicines?”
From that question came her wish to become a doctor, to invent painless injections and medicines children would not be afraid of.
So no child would ever lie awake the night before, afraid of the needle.
Sweet potions instead of bitter ones. Because healing shouldn't taste like punishment.
She would teach every nurse to be gentle. Kindness as medicine. Love as treatment.
Joy, Even Inside
Hospital Walls
Hospitals can feel cold and heavy. But Keerthi carried her own sunshine and it always found a way to fill every corner of the room.
Her Toy Kitchen
She'd sit surrounded by her little kitchen set, cooking imaginary dishes and serving them to me with a proud, bright smile.
Her Variety Rainbow
She painted rainbows in blocks, not arcs. When asked why, she said it was her variety rainbow. She created her own rules.
Magic from Waste
An empty box became a painted pen stand. Send it to aunty, she said. This is recycling of wastage, Amma.
Cards and Curiosity
Cards, housie, YouTube. Even from her bed she kept exploring the world. Her curiosity never stopped growing.
and it always found a way to fill every corner of the room.
Completely Unshakable
Completely Unshakable
Held Close A very few of the thousands she left behind
Keerthi’s Mom
You are always with me. With endless love. Amma Srilakshmi Kovvali ·
walk with me. This space is for the strength of parents who sit beside hospital beds, for the long nights in waiting rooms, and for the hearts that keep holding on even when they feel tired and afraid. If you are walking through such a moment, know that you are not alone. I see you. Come, let us walk through this together.
