Tuesday Truth: A Story About Loss

Today, my stepmom would have been 62 years old. It's been almost 9 months since we lost her to Ovarian Cancer, but I still have moments where I cannot believe that she is actually gone. 

I've found grief to be a strange animal, creeping up on me when I least expect it to, seizing me momentarily, leaving me wracked in sobs, and then disappearing, just as quickly as it appeared. I know we all experience it differently, but I've been surprised by the unexpected nature of my grief when it comes to this major loss. 

One of the books that I've found helpful throughout this time is Grieving Mindfully, by Sameet M. Kumar. I especially connected with the following story from the book, which explains the unavoidable nature of loss: 

Krishna Gotami was a young mother who live at the time of the Buddha. When her first child was a year old, it became sick and died. 

Grief-stricken and clutching its tiny, lifeless body, Krishna Gotami roamed the streets, begging anyone she met for a medicine that could restore her child to life. Some ignored her, some laughed at her, some thought she was mad, but finally she met a wise man who told her that the only person in the world who could perform the miracle she was looking for was the Buddha.

So she went to the Buddha, laid the body of her child at his feet, and told him her story. The Buddha listened with infinite compassion. Then he said gently, "There is only one way to heal your affliction. Go down to the city and bring me back a mustard seed from a house in which there has never been death."

Krishna Gotami felt elated and set off at once for the city. She knocked on the door of every single house, rich or poor. People answered, "My grandfather died last year," My son died just last month," "My husband died ten years ago," and "My cousin was killed when he was a child." 

Krishna Gotami went through the entire city looking for that mustard seed, but she could not find a single household that had not been visited by death. Finally, she understood what the Buddha was trying to tell her. 

She took the body of her child to the cremation grounds and said goodbye to him for the last time, then returned to the Buddha. "I am beginning to understand the lesson you are trying to teach me. Grief made me blind and I thought that only I had suffered at the hands of death."

We are all touched by tragedy, by loss, by grief, and by death. Suffering is a part of our lives--of all of our lives--and I find it helpful to remember that. 

Happy Birthday, Anita. You're in my heart always and forever.