ZUBIN
MATHAI
author of the oarsman
Death Is Life
January 10, 2015

My mother passed away a few weeks ago, two days before Christmas.

Surprisingly, there was little sadness in me. When I felt the sadness in my sibling, or the sadness of those who knew her, that energy of the moment did move through me. But when alone and thinking of my mother there was no sadness.

There was only a still and silent connection to what she was.

On the surface, my mother gifted me with her addiction to food and depression. Echoes of those are still here. Deeper than that, what she was, the love she was beneath her mind patterns, is the same love in my heart. So how can I miss something that is right here, alive and felt?

When sadness and missing are removed, all that is left is a celebration on one level of the uniqueness of a life, and on another level, a recognition that what is in everyone, at their core, is also your core.

Life, that force that animates us all, that infuses matter and energy in all its forms, also infuses and give birth to the concept of death. Life is big enough for everything.