88: Attached (Part 1)

Creative Expression: Found Short Story (words that have been taken from verses/purports of the Gita are italicized. The chapter and verse numbers are notated at the end of the story) 

From the moment my daughter was born, I felt as though a piece of my heart was just walking around the world - naked, beating, raw. Susceptible to every needle of this world. 

I had never been told that as a mother I would become consumed by fear. Maybe because my daughter was diagnosed with a heart defect, the fear ate away at my own heart. I was told by doctors that Vrinda would live a normal, albeit shorter, life. She would most likely not make it to high school graduation.  

For years I would lay awake at night, envisioning the moment when I would have to say goodbye. During the day I threw myself into being Vrinda's mother, letting the sour moments slide, letting the sweet moments sink in to my skin. 

In my spiritual tradition, I knew that the material body was perishable by nature. Sure, it may perish immediately, or it may do so after a hundred years and that it was a question of time only**.  I knew that the light of my daughter's soul maintained her body, and her soul was eternal. 

Still, I grieved. 

My husband would hold me, coo me to sleep, counsel me, but very little eased the ache in my chest. 

Vrinda had joined the track team in middle school, almost as an act of defiance. But in high school, she had to drop out. Her involvement in fundraisers and dances and spending time with friends dwindled. Still, she went on. 

The day Vrinda received her high school diploma, the entire school gave her a standing ovation, tears in the eyes of many. 

She started college. Those were the days I seemed to be holding my breath. 

One day, the call came. "Mrs. Burns, your daughter collapsed on her way to class today. She in the ICU right now -"

I dropped my phone and did not hear the rest. 

My husband and I drove three hours in silence.

When I knelt at Vrinda's bed that night, her beautiful eyes gazing into my mine, I experienced how here was a piece of my heart, beating and naked on this bed, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to protect her from the needle of pain, the jab of her failing body. 

I wept. I cursed myself for my weakness. My husband placed his hand on my back. 

"Hey, mom, hey,"

I looked up at Vrinda. "No one is able to destroy my imperishable soul.* You taught me that, from the Gita. I know it feels like death will destroy me."

"Your soul may be eternal," I said, "But death will destroy our relationship, my love," 

The truth of my words hung in the air. 

"I can't really answer that, mom, but you taught me that everyone should attach him or herself to the bosom of the Supreme Personality of Godhead***, Krishna. You'll find love with Him, peace with Him. I am with Him, too, you know," 

Vrinda declined for a few weeks, and one day, she breathed her last breath. A piece of my heart stopped beating that day. 

[I wrote this story and have no resolution at this time. This is where I'm at. I intend to write a part 2.]

*2.18

**2.17

***9.13