Faith Perspective: Requiem
September 18, 2008
The proverbial phone call in the middle of the night visited us in May. We found out that my father-in-law had passed away during his visit to India. Death came suddenly, in the middle of a conversation. They told us that his brother was talking for a while but noticed a lull in the conversation; my father-in-law never responded because his heart had stopped.
Few things set an Asian American family spinning out of control faster than the death of the father. Nobody quite knows what to say or do next. Who does mom stay with? How could this happen? Then the questions slowly turn inward: Did I say everything I wanted to him? Is there more I could have done? What do we do now? What about my own father? What about my own daughter?
When a father dies, it suddenly hits you that not just anyone can die, but the one who gave you his dimpled chin, your laugh, your sense of humor can die. The fear of death seeps in like a low-grade fever or a sixth sense. You notice death and dying everywhere. The scarcity of life becomes more apparent, and the reverence that comes with religion seems appropriate, even if we don’t consider ourselves to be religious.
The family gathered from different corners of the country to the house of my in-laws where a puja was held 13 days after the passing away. The Hindu priest chanted in Sanskrit for a few hours as we bid farewell to the spirit of my father-in-law. Later that evening, friends and relatives sang his favorite bhajans and spoke of him lovingly as they wept. Then, within hours, everyone returned to homes far and wide. It was a bit surreal—this outpouring of condolences, encouragement, well wishes—and then coming home to an empty house, an empty dinner table, an empty bed. There will be no stories over the breakfast table or news alerts or old jokes anymore.
I could see how some Asian religions regarded parents and ancestors as gods. Maybe we just miss them too much and wish we could be around them again, smell them and hold their hand one more time. Maybe we want another chance to make things right with them and hope they see us for who we are. But I know his flaws too, which would make it hard for me to think of him as a god. His death, however, makes me realize how divine, how God-breathed this life is, how short it is and how much I miss people already.
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