The 49th Day
Today is the 49th day since my mother passed away. In Buddhism it is of significance, and often a service is conducted for the family. Although I’m not of an expert about the Buddhist traditions other than my faint memories of attending the family rituals for the 49th day whenever someone in the family passed away.
Since my mother had donated her body to a local medical school research AND very adamant about not having any type of service, my brother and I seemingly went on with our lives. I don’t know about my brother, but for me it’s been rather emotionally confusing. As I’ve expressed before, I haven’t really done much about the loss more than lighting incense in front of her picture. So I wanted to do something today for the 49th day… I didn’t know what it would be, but something.
As I googled the meaning of the 49th day, what I learned is that the spirit of the deceased have been ascending onto the Heaven realm in circular motion. Every seven days after the first transition, they move to the next level. At the end of the 7th cycle, which is the 49th day, they finally and hopefully reach the Heaven realm. The ritual for this day is to send them off with the prayers from those of us still in this realm to make sure they get there. This is the very watered downed version of my understanding.
Well, upon much deliberation, I decided what I can do is what I always enjoy doing of putting together some photos in her memories and share. I could get utterly emerged in the process of going through hundreds and thousands of photos I have in my possession, but I got away with whatever were readily accessible. I ended up 2 sets of slide shows: one with some of the photos from her younger days through the end with memories; and the other more of environmental portraits I photographed over the last years of her life. I wanted to have a virtual gathering of my friends who knew her, but it felt like it was too much to ask, so I posted them on social media.
In this process, I certainly noticed the “feelings” arising. Not exactly of sadness per se, but more of a mixture of gratitude and appreciation for this woman — who grew up in the war, who had dreams, gave me birth, and had a fair amount of struggle and strife — and joy for her that she’s finally free, and yes, sadness for knowing I will not get to touch her again in this realm. Yet in my dream a few nights ago, I was talking to her about how happy she was to be reunited with my father, my grandparents, and all the kitties we had in our family. She was smiling broadly. I’ve let go of the sense of guilt that I carried around for a long time for not being around in her ailing years to help because there was nothing on her end as I saw her smile that was holding her back from loving me. Rest in peace, Mom. I love you!