A Death in the Family

"We are ok" dad said when I answered the phone.

But, I knew everything was not ok.  It was a call that originated from India during the early hours of the day there.

We had learnt from the Tamil version of Ramayana--Kambar's--about how masterfully Hanuman conveyed to Rama regarding what he saw in Lanka, and about Sita--Rama's wife.  He reports, கண்டேன் சீதையை (Saw Sita.)  Getting to that important bottom-line right away.  And then moves on to providing the details.

Thus, dad, knowing that I knew it was not any normal, regular, call, gave me the bottom-line first that mom was ok. 

Then came the reason for the phone call.

A death.

Of his brother.

The only sibling he has ever had.

It was a long life into his mid-80s.  A long life compared to his father--my grandfather--who died in his early 20s.  A long life compared to his mother--my grandmother--who lived to 67.

However long one lives, a death is a death.  And however much we might not have been close, death is that final termination of a relationship. The finality of it all.

Every moment we live is a battle that we win against death.  But, ultimately, we lose the war.  One of the challenges when we are alive is to be ready for deaths. Of our dogs. Of parents. Of children. Of neighbors. Most of all, to be ready for our own deaths.

As Martin Luther King noted in his marvelous and moving speech the day before his assassination, "Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now."  It is that profound sense of being at peace inside and mentally ready for death to strike at any second. 

A death makes us notice the sharp contrast that life is.  The bright, vivid, luscious colors of life against the dark shades of death. 

Any time I am reminded of my own mortality, I feel compelled to ask myself whether there is anything left hanging loose that I would want to tie up before it is my turn to exit this wonderful planet, of which I have seen very little and of which I have understood practically nothing.