Mommy

Dearest Mommy,

Happy Mother’s Day. This is the first Mother’s day without you. It’s almost been 8 months since you passed. I miss you so dearly today and everyday. Last year Mother’s Day, I was walking along the beach, and you and I were Skyping – talking, laughing, and watching the sunrise together, and we went for a morning walk, as was our tradition, anytime I went to the beach. It has been a hard day, although I do practice grieving from a place of joy. I know you are nowhere physically, but lot of times, and more often now, I do feel the warmth, and deep joy as though you are everywhere. Mostly in nature when I’m looking at the passing clouds, or the swaying trees in the wind, or the rain, or the night stars or even how the sunlight comes through the windows in the kitchen, when I’m looking out the window drinking tea. Other times when I look at your picture I have over the fire mantle, I feel a deep sense of calm, and comfort; only thing I can compare to, is as maybe finding a tree shade and getting to drink the coldest water when one has been walking in the heat for hours. That kind of comfort.

Even when your frail body was about 75 pounds, as the cancer took over, I could still find solace in you. Last summer when I was visiting you in Nepal, and I got sick with cold and headache, you’d come and check on me in the downstairs room so often, even as you were going through chemotherapy yourself. I deeply long sometimes to lay my head down on your lap, and wish I could feel your soft and gentle hands running through my hair just one more time. You did that every time I was sick or anytime I wanted comfort.

It was the next morning after your diagnosis, we were at the house in Nepal. I was still in disbelief, and hoping maybe the diagnosis was a bad dream. After all you’d just been going about your normal life and routine, with getting a little sick here and there, and going through the unexplained weight loss, up until 2 weeks back when we started with the doctor check ups, biopsy, and scans. S (my son) and I were there for summer vacation. So this morning I was dreading in my head how to face you, now that we knew it was cancer. How can we sit at the dining and have breakfast together like we did every morning and carry a normal conversation. Then as I headed upstairs you were doing your pooja (worship) in the pooja kotha (worship room), as was part of your daily morning routine, as is for most mothers in Nepal. Then as I approached closer to this room I heard you humming, a worship song. I was immediately relieved. You saw me and instructed me to go ahead get ready for breakfast and continued back humming. Let me reiterate, you had been diagnosed with stage 3 cancer the day before. This was you Mommy, so strong, it always amazed me. If one needed to know what living in the present moment means, you lived it. You completely accepted your diagnosis and later the prognosis completely; never asking- why is this happening to me.

It was about 14 months since the time your diagnosis and the time of your passing. Many doctor visits, colonoscopies, rounds of chemotherapy, immunotherapy, radiation, CAT scan, MRI scan, PET scan, and trip to Delhi, India in the middle of summer for second opinion. Through it all you never bowed down to cancer. You took things in such a matter of fact way. During the imunotherapy treatment there was a time when the cancer tumor was almost all gone; here you were in gratitude but it was a calm gratitude. You were always so balanced, always took the middle path. You weren’t too overzealous during the highs, and never overly sad during the lows- you were always so humble, right in the middle- your emotions, reactions, and spoken words. I suppose you were a stoic of sorts. I believe it is exactly the reason why you were able to handle it so well when the cancer did return.

How you reacted to cancer is a teaching I have and will continue to utilize in my life, and all life situations.

First, you accepted it completely. One of my favorite teacher Eckhart Tolle in his book Power of Now, says, “Always say “yes” to the present moment. What could be more futile, more insane, than to create inner resistance to what already is? …..” You completely understood this and accepted the suchness of any life situation including your cancer. You had been a practitioner of meditation and yoga for 25 plus years, a vegetarian, ate healthy, and took care of your health. You could have easily asked- why me? Instead, you had the awareness to pause and say- Yes I do have cancer, but now what can I do about it, and how can I do it. The only exception to this is, once, about a month before you passed when we were talking you said, “Maybe this happened to me because of something in my past life. I needed to go through this experience. Thikai cha (it’s okay).” You completely accepted that possibility (In Hinduism and Buddhism there is a belief of reincarnation; she especially followed Bhuddhist teachings and applied that in her life) as well, never with self pity or regret but a sense of ownership and humility.

Second, you moved to action- You immediately jumped into, what can be done to treat this cancer and heal your body and mind, and how to do it? You always were very engaged in the treatment conversations, never wanting to burden just the the family with all aspects of the treatment, including the difficult options and decisions. You maintained your independence as much as possible.

Third, you maintained your normal routine to the best you could, keeping your wellness in mind. You maintained some yoga, your meditation practice, taking care of Ba (Dad), cooking as much as you could especially my favorites (during my visits), reading, watching your favorite shows; one of my best memory of last summer is our afternoon routine to watch the Netflix show, The Crown together. You even attended some social family or friends gathering when feasible. You constantly listened to your body, mind, and soul.

Fourth, you always exercised, till the last days, the virtue you lived by, with selflessness, and with empathy to all the caregivers- family, friends, and medical providers. You maintained your independence in every sense as much as you could. Different times during the treatment we had hired nurses to take you to your doctor visits or treatment, and stay with you overnight. Often times nurses would call me or Dai (my brother) and sound embarrassed complaining, that by the time they woke up in the morning, you would have already completed your morning routine; finished breakfast and taking your medicine, and would have their breakfast ready for them! Other times on the way back from hospital you would drop them off so they wouldn’t have to take public transportation back to their homes, not wanting to inconvenience them. Sometimes this would be after a chemo session!

Fifth, you maintained your daily meditation and quiet reflection through the end. I firmly believe the selfless life you led as a benevolent soul, and how you reacted to difficult situations in life, including this cancer is why your ends days manifested into a time of contentment and peace for you. Just the fact that both my brother and I were there- it had to be your love, and your energy that pulled us to Nepal couple of weeks before you passed, when there are so many reasons why we may have not been there at that time, and at the same time. Both Dai (my brother) , Bhauju (my sister in law), and I having had visited you several times in those 14 months since the diagnosis, it was only your good karma, and part of God’s favor that we were there to spend time with you before your passing. It was such an honor, such a privilege. And your transition was so peaceful surrounded by family, and friends, with so much love, and a sense serenity, as you peacefully passed away in your sleep as I held your hand, laying next to you. This was not happenstance, it was because of the work you had put in your life, and the way you lived even with cancer that your transition was so peaceful and tranquil, even under the circumstances which typically surrounds terminal illness and death. You inspire me, Mommy.

You not only taught me in your lifetime, but you also taught me so much during your illness, and in death itself. You lived your life to the fullest, and I don’t mean just in experiences, or accomplishments; you LIVED your life. You understood the essence of life, that it is just not in our daily doings, accomplishments, having a career, or not just even raising a family; you understood and embodied so well that there is more to our time in this Earth. Your level of consciousness was always so evolving; and I truly saw the transformation throughout your life through the highs, mundane, and difficult life situations. You practiced this with the relentless empathy, kindness, selflessness, your actions, and in all of your interactions.

A month before your beloved Jwain (son in law) (my husband) Scott passed, about 5 months after you had passed away; he had talked about making you a little area of flowers and plants in your memory. It was unfulfilled, he did not get a chance to do it. For Mother’s Day Mommy- your grandson S and I (with help of my father in law) have made a small area of plants and colorful flowers in your memory, as a tribute to you, from Scott and I. A Botanist (Professor), all your life, you were such an avid lover of plants; which I never had interest in. Now I have started to enjoy this, and have plants around the house, makes me feel close to you. I and your grandson S will continue to live the best versions of ourselves in your memory (and of Scott), and exercise all the virtues you practiced through life; living in the present moment, humility, simplicity, sincerity, kindness, compassion, selflessness, and life of service. Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy. I love you dearly.

With Eternal Love,

Shree