Wednesday, October 26, 2011

7:50am

In Tel Aviv at 7:50am a little child breathed his last breath.
He looked around the room, looked for all the faces.
He was holding his mothers hand, his mother, gently playing with his fingers, feeling every bit of his warm body.
His mother, trying to feel it all, the beautiful face, the deep cleft in the chin, the rosy red cheeks, the perfect nose.
Running her hands down the fleece polar bear jammies that belonged once to his brother, his big brother, his friend, his buddy, his partner in crime.
Touching his feet, his toes and waiting for him to break out in a giggle.
His brother sitting next to him in the bed, your head resting securely on his shoulder.
Your pa, sitting right there next to you on the bed, trying to relieve your pain.
He took off your mask and let you breath free, free of any help, free of any device.
He wanted to see you as you, pure, intependant, restful.
He wanted to remember you, as you.
You took your last breath. Then suddenly life came back in you and you breathed again.
We were there, talking, talking about the universe, talking about the beautiful sun that had just risen.
Talking about the new day, a new beginning.
We gave you permission to leave, leave and be one with the stars where you really belong.
Leave and be one with the universe that is yours.
Go, be free, free to be what you want to be.
We gave you permission to let go.
Let go of this world, let go of maya. Let go and reach out for your next adventure.
And then suddenly, you closed your eyes,
Those gorgeous eyes that I loved, twinkled with mischief, the ones that had long eyelashes envied by girls and women alike.
Two tears fell from your right eye... pearls, precious pearls. I drank them up.
There you lay, so peaceful. The sound of the oxygen nowhere to be heard, the constant beeping of the monitor, nowhere to be heard.
No wires, no tubes, no attachments, not physical or ethereal.
You silently moved on.
You never gave up hope and never wanted us to live without hope.
It was all planned, now I understand.
You wanted us all to yourself.
You wanted to call the shots,
You were always an old soul... you took us all the way to the old holy city and bid us farewell.
It was all planned, now I understand.


6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh Purvi, This is so beautifully heartbreaking :( I am so so sorry that you had to let go of your beautiful boy...and I am so so glad that he has such a beautiful family.

I wish I could do something..anything to help your family..but all I can do is pray that you find the strength that you need.

Many prayers to you all..I hope Amaey sends you a sign from wherever he is..letting you know that he is ok

Much love
Gayathri

Renata said...

Oh Purvi. What an amazing soul you helped bring to earth... What an amazing family he chose for this visit. I am so sorry it was so brief; I am so sorry he had to go so soon. My sorrow is beyond words. Big hugs to you all, Renata.

Anonymous said...

I read your posts, but can't think of one useful comment. It just moves me so much though, and makes me wish there was something we can do.

One thing I've wondered about Purvi is about how much of this did Amaey understand? How much of his illness, possibility of death did he understand? Did he fear any of it? I have a 9 year old daughter and it seems to be that intelligent as he was, he would have been extremely intimate with the details of what was going on with him - but the child in him would have moved him beyond the fears and only be optimistic?

It is so sad that we pay more interest, attention and money to rock stars and not enough to inspire more people to find cures to diseases such as these. Maybe Arjun will one day find such a cure..

- Abby.

Anonymous said...

Purvi, I am speechless and sobbing seeing your love and courage. May your heart and soul always remain so beautiful. May Amaey's wonderful soul fill your lives always.
-Jyotsna

sheila said...

Purvi,
Marty, Andrew and I all read this post together. We are so deeply moved, and you, my dear, are a gifted writer...or poet. Do not give up writing. This is just outstanding...how you wrote about Amaey's last moments...too many tears.
We love you all!

Unknown said...

My Dear Purvi,
Words cannot express how sorry I am . As I was reading your post, I felt like my soul and my spirit left my body and experienced your tough journey . It was like a wrench passing through my heart. Amaey is so lucky to have this kind of beautiful family. He is within all of you and us forever. Like Abby said, even educated people are hesitant to become donors and comprehending that is beyond my understanding and reasoning. Where are you living ? - Lots of love and prayers,Malathi