The Cancer that Killed my Soul
On March 11, 1997, I found out that my mother would be dead in six months. It was a brutal idea to try and grasp and accept. My mother had found out she had stage four cancer and was given only six months to live. I have never forgotten the moment when she arrived home, after learning the startling information, and she came over to me, gave me a hug, and promised me she would be there for my graduation. In my heart I knew she was going to die, but part of me also had tremendous hope a miracle would happen.
It was that night I made a wishful child-like promise to myself that "I would find the cure to cancer." I grabbed her pamphlets on cancer, found some medical books I had purchased at the local GoodWill and started reading about cancer, and ways to heal it. It was the only thing in my heart and mind to do - I felt so helpless.
Following the heart-breaking evening and endless hours of crying, I accompanied my mother to chemotherapy the next day. I wanted to be there every second, minute, and hour remaining in her life. She was only 42.
Watching Human Life Slip Away
The Summer of 1997 was very intense for me. Everyday I was watching my mother becoming hairless, weak, fragile and living in pain and suffering. She always kept her faith though and always told me to remain positive, that "things always happened for a reason." With every "extra" day, I always assisted the nurses in giving my mother her medicine, a bath or whatever she needed. Deep down, I was stressed, depressed and emotionally going insane...I was very very angry, too.
Many visitors from the parish we belonged to, especially the nuns (whom I am still close with today) did their best to take me away from the house, and get me to talk. It was at this age I learned to start suppressing my emotions and anger and would tell people, "I am fine." Everyone knew I was not fine, they could see it in my eyes I could fall apart in any moment. One of the teachers from my elementary school offered me a two week summer job, just to get me out of the house for 4 hours. In those 4 hours, I felt very guilty for not being at my mother's bedside.
In a matter of months, my mom went from super-dooper healthy to a weak human body. I had witnessed multiple seizures, the growth of more tumors in her lungs and brain and so much more a child (or any person!) should not see. It was on August 18, 1997, her beautiful soul left her body with the whole family, a family-friend, nun and priest at her bedside. This was the worst day of my life.
The worst day did not stop there, the domino effect continued. It was five of us living at our home, but after my mom passed away, my grandma (mom's mom) moved in with my uncle, and my brother moved into the duplex. Not only did I lose my mom, my brother and grandma were no longer with me.
The Toll of Death - The Death of Believing in Anything
In eighth grade, my straight A's went to straight B's. In ninth grade, it went from straight B's, to very low grades. I nearly got an F in religion. I had every right to get an F in religion, how can you believe in "some great God" after going through what I had gone through. It was after 13, I deep down stopped believing in anything - in "God" or myself. I simply hated God and the idea of it.
One of my psychologist-counselors, after my mom's death I went to (who I still keep in touch with today), told me a few years ago in conversation, "The first day I met you, I was so worried about you. You would've gone either two ways because of your state of mind and heart. You would've either gone downhill, maybe join a gang, or went emotionally insane, or you would've risen up, used the situation as a growing experience, and be who you are today. I am so happy, it was not the other way around, because you would've been completely lost the rest of your life."
It was after September 11, 2001, a day when my friend's mom passed away and of course the events at the World Trade Center, that I finally started dealing with my mother's death. After 4 years, I opened up the closet of my heart, felt the pain I was supposed to feel, grieve and accept years ago, and I began my search for truth. From Tragedy to Truth - talk about a life story...PLUS Iraq.
From Tragedy to Truth - What really happened?
After finally accepting my mother's death and letting go (but never forgetting) I started the search I was destined to. If my mother would have not passed away, I would not be where I am today. Because without life experience, or even traumatic times, a person is not forced to change their way of thinking, believing and feeling. When in a crisis situation, you only have two options: take a step back or take a step forward. After years of not making a decision, I took my step forward.
With many experiences of meditation and right understanding of death, reincarnation and etc. it brought comfort to the state of my mother's soul. Although my mother is in her new body now and living a new life, I have seen her in meditations and dreams and know she will be with me again this life. I should be meeting her in a few years (according to her last message to me), and she will be learning spiritual teachings from Acharya Shree and myself.
Acharya Shree Yogeesh's Thoughts on my Mother's Death
I asked Acharya Shree Yogeesh a few years ago why my mother had died. She was so healthy, worked out everyday for 45 minutes, active in the community, so much more and all of sudden stage 4 cancer with no source.
He told me that my mother had eaten a bad piece of meat, a meat filled with disease and bacteria, and it entered her system. By eating meat, my mother died of cancer.
Secondly, I asked Acharya Shree was it my karma to have gone through that experience? He replied it was all of our karmas, my mother's, father's, my own, etc. to have gone through that situation. It was my karma to attract that kind of parent which would force me to go through a tragic situation, and force me to start my spiritual path.
I asked him once vulnerably, "Did you hear my prayers that time?"
He replied, "I listened to your every word, and tried to send you peace. But I knew you had to go through that, in order to start your spritual journey."
Thirdly, the reason Acharya Shree has told me when my mom's death was the real beginning of my spiritual path, was because for 3 weeks, I was intensely thinking about life, what life is, and how life can slip away at anytime. It was awakening, althought short, that started my truth seeker process.
On multiple occassions, my mother has visited me when I was visiting Acharya Shree several years ago. He would stopped the conversation, look directly at her, and say, "Your mom is here. She is happy for you and is completely at peace."
I Wouldn't Change a Thing
Many people have asked me if I could, would I have changed that part of my life. My answer is No. Without the experience of my mother's death, the emotional/mental/physical pain and suffering as a result of the death, and choices and consequences (on many dimensions) during that time and afterwards, I would not be who I am or where I am at today.
For me, the death of my mother started my spiritual path. The match for spirituality was lit at 13 years old, and the candle ignited at 17. I am only 25 now, and know I have many years ahead of me for my spiritual search for truth, enlightenment.
My only suggestion is, not "just live each day to the fullest", but live each moment to its fullest.
Why did I share this with you?
You have every right to know the ups AND downs of my life. If you do not know where I started, you will not know in its full entirety how much I have changed and grown. Also, for you, by knowing my past of crisis, you begin to understand that EVERYONE goes through traumatic and tragic things, but still they continue growing on their spiritual path, without giving up, no matter what kind of setback it is.
