A Moment in Time: The Last Goodbye

On this New Moon day, Monday the 17th of July, in the evening at about 11PM,  I stand on my terrace beneath the unseen moon's shadowed face. The phantom imprints of another New Moon Day, etched deep in the chambers of my heart, resurface, unbidden yet unignored, and cascade through my consciousness as my fingers dance upon the keys to inscribe this tale...

14th December 2020, 4:17 pm. A day and time that is etched in my memory forever. It was not an ordinary Monday afternoon when my wife, Latha, and I walked into my father's bedroom, oblivious to the fact that it would be our very last encounter with him.

He had been ailing for a while, but the gravity of his struggle was not entirely apparent to us. In his usual spirit, he managed to call out our names, "Kanna," "Latha," perhaps his way of telling us he was still holding on.

As I sat beside his bed, holding his hand, I began reciting a prayer I had learned during my school days. His grip weakened, his breathing grew shallow, and then there was silence. For a moment, I thought he had drifted into a deep sleep, not realizing that he had quietly transitioned to a place far beyond our reach.

As the room took on a hushed solemnity, my wife Latha, strong in her faith and intuition, was deeply engaged in her own rites of love and reverence. Her voice, a soft murmur, echoed with prayers in the quietude. Aided by an inexplicable instinct, she lit a lamp, its flickering glow casting a warm, comforting light that seemed to soften the harsh reality of our circumstance. From the morning's Abhishek, she carefully offered Charnamrit, its sacred essence serving as an anchor in our storm of uncertainty. Gently, with hands trembling with trepidation and sorrow, she placed a Tulasi leaf on his tongue. All the while, an unsettling fog of unknowing clouded her actions, the profound reality of the moment yet to dawn on her.

The reality of the situation only hit us later. There was no visible discomfort, no tangible indication. Only the haunting stillness that follows the departure of a soul.

Even now, I question why I didn't feel his departure more acutely. Why was there no signal, no intimation of his final journey? But perhaps, in his unique fatherly way, he spared us the pain of his immediate loss.

There are moments when I find myself overwhelmed with guilt and regret. Did I miss signs of his suffering? Could I have done something more? However, I remind myself that death, as much as life, is a mystery we're yet to completely comprehend.

I was there, holding his hand as he embarked on his final journey.

As the day drew to a close, the sun surrendered its reign to an unfathomable night. The moon too, concealed in the embrace of a New Moon Day, was absent from its post in the heavens. A full solar eclipse was unfolding elsewhere in the world, casting its profound darkness even upon regions untouched by its shadow. Amidst this chorus of cosmic events, a soul embarked on its final voyage. Just as the celestial bodies withdrew their light, so too did the light in our lives flicker out. A piercing absence filled the room, the world outside, the universe itself. The echo of his departure filled the darkness, and we were left to navigate the night, forever changed by the silence left in the wake of his leaving.

While the void left by his departure remains, the memories of his love and wisdom provide some solace.

It is difficult to put into words the love, respect, and admiration I hold for my father. But through this post, I want to honor his memory and acknowledge the indelible mark he has left on my life.

Anyone who has ever lost a loved one would understand that grief is not linear. It ebbs and flows like a river, sometimes calm, sometimes overwhelming. Yet, in our hearts, the departed live on.

Each day is a new step forward in the journey of healing and acceptance. And I believe my father, wherever he is now, continues to guide and watch over us.

In loving memory of my father, a guiding light forever in our hearts.

End