Silence is what one strives for, to find peace. Silence is the gem that yogis nurture, for in silence only can the truth be seen and heard. And I’ve trumped the dusty roads of India, I have traveled with Amma, my loving teacher God’s love in a human body; that is how Jane Goodall described her, to find it. Siting at her feet I have inhaled the power of silence.
But now looking at my son’s silent pictures looking back at me I want to rip this haunting silence into shreds and hear his voice, a voice as beautiful and as sophisticated as his looks.
I read in a newspaper that he called or texted a friend to ask him if he wanted to go to pommes frites, I wished you’d asked me, Andrew. I know, you thought that I would have said: ‘Andrew, shouldn’t you be asleep now? What did you have for dinner?”
But I could have enticed you to home-made fries, I would have made your mouth water telling you about the delicious home cooked food you could have if you’d hopped on the train tomorrow, or the day after. I was starting to think of a new sweet potato puree to make to go with the turkey at Thanksgiving.
Andrew, who will I cook your favorite things for? If you knew how many people have come, the cards they’ve signed for you, Nonna, your Uncles, Renato, Nova, people are coming from far and wide for you. I think you’ll be surprised by how many people will be at the funeral. And I am telling you now, there will be Oms and Bhajans, I can see you cringysmile. David, Janet, Elizabeth, Evelyn, Sanjoy, Greg, Akil, Liz, Pauline, Nick and others came to the hospital. The doctor who declared you dead, said he’ d never seen so many people as he did on tuesday when you died, and even he is coming to your funeral. Oh Andrew! Oh my sweet, sweet, sweet darling Andrew, how can we go on without you? Oh my love, why?