A Chapter has closed in My family

The death of a family member and its reverberations in the system.

This blog will share the first of the three personal information about myself, my father and the family members at the time of death and the rituals that followed after that.

The story starts when I receive a missed call and a text from my father. The text said, “Mummy is no more”. I had just picked up the kids from school and had reached home. I was distraught the inevitable had happened. I told my husband, “Mummy died today.” and I cried inconsolably.

I called Father and asked him what it was like for her last moments. He described it as peaceful and that she went away calmly.

Then he went on to say he was going to cremate her on the same day. That was the first reverberation of “distancing when in pain”. I asked him why he was in such a rush. He needed to wait for me. He said, “I don’t want to torture her any more.” I replied,” Papa, you cannot torture a dead body; she is dead.” He still held his position. I was “getting angry”, and this was the second reverberation. I stated, “It is my right as the only able child to see her before anything happens.”. He was determined to do the cremation. I continued my plea. This time, I changed the tactic and said,” How dare you take my rights as a daughter? You have no right to decide on my behalf whether it is futile for me to come. What is your inconvenience?” To that, he stopped his stance and said, “it will be a torture for me.” The position was open. I said, “Papa, losing mummy is not going to be easy for you; it is heart-wrenching. But, as her daughter, I want to see her.”The system had somehow relaxed, and he said calmly, okay, tell me how soon you can make it. I said, “I will be with you tomorrow.” A relationship becomes open when the people involved in it come across as sure, without pushing others to the corner, when one individual shows conviction, consistency and being present. In this challenging time, I could show my father the importance of my mother in my life.

I asked my firstborn if he would accompany me, and he said, “Yes”. I was glad, and as it would be, I had enough finances to fly to India at such short notice.

We reached India and my parents’ home, another five-hour journey from the airport.

The following day was cremation, and I decided to take my sister to it. I conveyed my intention, and my father was agreeable. We went to the mortuary; I was tense. I wanted to see my mother, and when they finally pulled her out, I could not hold the tears back. My physiological response, as if I was choking, was evident. I accompanied her in the ambulance with my father. That fifteen-minute ride to the cremation ground was the one one-on-one I had with her. I did not move my eyes from her face; her face and body were cold, and her chest felt heavy, but her hair was still flawless. It was as if I inhaled every aspect of her so she could become a part of me. The third reverberation was the “fear” I would forget her and how she looked.

At the cremation time, I had set up a way to connect my mother’s older sister, my cousins and my created family via Zoom to attend the ceremony. Everything happened according to the plan. Most of the family members attended.

My mother’s position in her family, the one she was born into, created and extended, was determined by the patterns of the system that needed a leader. She rose to the occasion and gave seventy-seven years of her life to this position. Like her mother, she held a position of importance, a person liked by most of her family.

Hence, the death of an important family member rearranges the pawns in the relationship. Who will fill the vacuum of her importance will be told in the next blog.

The reverberations described in this blog are distance when it hurts, anger and fear.