I write this entry while sitting in my mother’s room in the Sir Moses Montefiore Nursing Home in Hunter’s Hill, Sydney. Rememberances of her almost 80 years of selfless, affectionate service flood through my mind as I count the seconds between her slowing breaths.
The CD player is on endless-loop, softly playing my Guru Srila Prabhupada singing Hare Krishna in call-and-response with his young disciples. An incense burner wafts healing aromatherapy oils.
I occasionally light morsels of Frankincence. My mother lies in her bed, the holy Bhagavatam beside her head, garlanded with aromatic chrysanthemums from the Radha Gopinatha Temple.
My mother wears a single necklace of sacred tulasi beads. I have a little bottle of water from one thousand holy tirthas in India, and a sandalwood and tulasi leaf mix for sanctification.
As often as I can, I whisper to her that it is ok for her to leave, whenever she wishes. Sarah Esther Gordon’s job is done. Now she is in the hands of The Lord.
“May my Lord, who is four-handed and whose beautifully decorated lotus face, with eyes as red as the rising sun, is smiling, kindly await me at that moment when I quit this material body.” Bhagavata Purana, spoken by Sri Bhismadeva.
Posted by Kurma on 21/5/07; 5:43:50 PM