Facing the Pain

Six weeks ago, my brother in law was told his brain tumor was back (which explained why he suddenly was losing feeling on left side). "This time, " his doctor said. "You won't recover." He was given three to six month which turned out to be six weeks. He just turned 51.

Vahid was a kind, stoic and giving soul who was always there for everyone, especially during a crisis (something my family cannot do without, so he was often busy). He was an eclectic artist that created art in everything he did. His best creations are his two little boys. How many dinners did he cook me as I moaned about some inconsequential problem or another? Really, how did I ever complain about anything? How selfish of me! As my aunt used to say, "If you have your health, you have everything." Vahid was so brave through this terrible illness. Even when he lost the use of his body and could barely speak, he still whispered jokes to ease my sister's tears. He fought until the very end. He did not want to leave his family, but he lost the battle.

I have left religion long ago in favor of a more spiritual existence. Facing this tragedy, though, I am not feeling very spiritual. Is there a God? I don't know, but if there is, he has a shitty way of doing things.

My sister contends with the well meaning words of friends:
"This will make you stronger."
"It's all part of God's plan."
"He is in a better place."

She wakes up alone now, not feeling very strong. She has the kids, of course, but who is prepared to be a widow at 41 raising a 6 and 8 year old? I hang my head in shame for ever bemoaning my single mom existence. Divorce cannot compare to this untimely loss. I got over the divorce but how can my sister ever get over losing her love of over 15 years?

Today, at the grave sight, watching his coffin being lowered into the ground, his youngest said, "But how is he going to get out?!" Erik and I were quietly sobbing as we hugged Vahid's parents. What cruel god would let a parent bury their child? Then, I backed up and stepped on poor "Jose"'s grave stone while my nephew tripped over "Edgar's" flowers.

I told Erik, "Burn me when the time comes and take a vacation to Maui. I want to be fish food."
Poor Erik seriously thought about this. "But, what about the dogs? Do I bring them, too?" (I used to keep my dead dogs' ashes in my fireplace...Mr. Dog-ma called them Angela's Ashes. They are now buried in Lake Tahoe). I asked my mom where she wanted her ashes thrown. "The Bay?" "No, I hate the water (true, she never liked swimming)." "The mountains?" "No, I hate the mountains." (True, she was never into nature). "Neiman Marcus?" "That's a thought...No, just use me for cat litter." My dad, the stoic Irishman, was aghast at this morbid talk, but my family always had a mix of odd humor.

Part of me believes we choose this human life, knowing all the suffering...and joy...we will experience and everyone we will experience it with. Why are we here? The only feasible answer, to me, is to learn and grow. You can't learn and grow without suffering, which life happily supplies by the truckload. Then we move on with our journey.

I don't like to think that this is IT...but it's hard to imagine what else is there. I guess we all find out in the end.

I do know that Vahid would say, "Stop all that crying! Here...have some food (he was a wondeful chef) and try this new wine. Get on with it!" He lived a full life, fully. A message to us all. If there is something you want to do, what are you waiting for? Is there something you want to say to someone? What are you waiting for? Death is always with us...While he is not a pleasant companion, he is a constant reminder to live the life you are meant to live.

Not that this will be any comfort to my sister, but Rumi believes in embracing the pain:

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorabley.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the same, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.