Linda: Farewell to Kerala, March 22

Farewell to Kerala

The last few days in Kerala were a series of last minute preparations and farewells. The days were touched by the pull of the soul, watching everyone and everything, hoarding the treasure of the little details deep within, memories which turn to gems in the depths of the heart. The sound of the rustle of palm, the cow tethered outside the gate, the greeting of Ravi who watched over us all in the darkness of the night, the smile of the tailor and neighbors who have seen us walk past them over this short month. The care and love of these people who gave us their help, and their love. Lovely little moments. Gathering things to ship home and being helped by the tailor and by our friends in sealing and addressing it. A shopping excursion on Wednesday to a nearby town with Eleanor’s dance teacher – to buy jewelry. Such kindness and generosity! On Thursday, Eleanor dressed in our best sari with full make-up and jewelry and performed the dance she had been practicing for a month. My eyes could not believe that this was my daughter performing such an elaborate and detailed dance after a few short weeks. She, like me, had become steeped in the heartbeat of India, but hers came through the stamping of feet, the love of a teacher, and the kindness of all. On Friday, Eleanor said her farewells to her dance and violin teacher, I said mine to the yoga teacher and my cooking teacher. My last farewell to Santosh was through a letter, left on his harmonium, for him to read on Monday after we were many, many kilometers away.

Friday night, we had a last meal with the family who is running a school. This is such an amazing and beautiful school. They have taken ten children of all ages from their village and brought them into their home. Their instruction is not only literacy, but in learning through experience, through field trips, through everyday living, through interactions with many people, and, most beautifully, through the arts. Every aspect of their lives is meaningful, respectful, harmonious. They live and work together in honor and respect. The children cooked the meal for us while we talked with these wonderful teachers/parents, as well as with our two friends from the Center. Afterwards, singing, music, and a final farewell. This farewell was a sweet one, for I hope to gather teaching supplies to send to this family. Notebooks, pens (lots of pens), trays, binders, books, and with the gift will come the hope that this connection of hearts will continue.

And, most difficult of all, was the farewell with Sarath. So many, many hours were spent together in class, at his family home, in his office in consultation and during and after Eleanor’s many treatments for her knees. These daily visits for nearly a month were times to which we all looked forward. The difference in age made conversation easy, open, honest, respectful, heartfelt. These conversations ranged along the gamut of possibilities, from college days to future hopes, family and friends, medicine in the East and in the West, metaphysics and poetry, aphorisms and tales, history and legend – touching, only touching the surface of so many ideas with the joyful recognition that someone else thought the same. One quickly glossed over the superficial as minds met in understanding and quickly went deeper, with growing trust and respect. So much was said, and yet, as I left each day, I realized how much more there was to discover, to ponder, and to share. And so the last moments came, spun out until the last possible second. There is a promise, a hope that he will one day come to visit in the United States – the forest and the medicines growing in the garden as well as the friendship with the students who have become family call him there. And for us, there is the hope to return again to study. But, what will that future be? One hopes, but those last moments were tinged with the knowledge that one can never recapture the present moment. And one never knows what the future will bring. For Sarath, there are the possibilities of post graduate work, marriage, research, and expanding the venerable family medical practice that will all come into his life over the next year or two. For us, there are the everyday joys and duties – and a much tighter budget. Over and over in India, it is here and it is now. And so the final moments moved to the end. There is nothing one can say. A brief holding of hands, eyes tinged with tears, volumes left unsaid, and yet, in the eyes, that knowledge that one will never, never forget. A gift. A perfect and unexpected friendship. Family. Something to cherish and protect in one’s mind, in one’s memory, in one’s thoughts and words.

Sunday came with the last minute packing, emails, and preparations. 12:30, the rickshaw waits. We are in the lobby of our home for the past month and all, all comes crashing to the present. It is Eleanor and me with all the staff who have come to say farewell. Little conversations, poignant, full of meaning and sincerity echo now in my mind. “Don’t be sad.” Am I sad? Yes, for separation is always a sadness, and in this world there is always separation. But … there is also reunion, maybe in this world, but definitely in the heart. Sad? Yes, but mostly a rich, rich joy for crystalline moments for mind, of heart, and of soul. I cannot hold back the tears for all that has been given. So many people come through this little center. Every week, there are new students coming, needing, asking, and leaving. The doors open and close. Don’t we all start to look the same? And yet, here Eleanor and I are and it is real. Warm hearts, wholly and freely given. Through the little window in the back of the rickshaw and through a veil of tears, I watch the waving hands get smaller and smaller. Through the narrow gate and out. An end. A new beginning