When I was about five, my parents separated and my younger sister and I both lived with my mother. My father saw us occasionally. He was both a heavy smoker and an alcoholic, and those addictions consumed his life and killed him in 2001 when I was 13.

The day he passed, Saturday, April 14th, I was busy doing chores around the house. I remember it being around noon because I looked at the clock several times. I was sweeping the living room when I swept over my mother's feet as she sat on the sofa. She laughed and reminded me of the old family superstition - "If you sweep someone's feet, they won't get married." She jokingly said that now she wouldn't get married again, and I responded, "Well, you're not divorced yet!"

She then started talking about one of our religious Hindu funeral traditions. She told me that in some Hindu families, when a husband dies, they have to use his finger to rub off the sindoor (a red dye/powder the husband rubs on the bride's forehead the day of the wedding ceremony). This is done to show that the wife is now a widow, since the sindoor symbolizes marriage. My mom laughed and said that she would never do that because our family had a different tradition. The thought of all this creeped her out, and it upset me so I told her not to talk about him dying.

An hour later, I was sweeping my bedroom when we received a phone call with the awful news. My father had died an hour before (around noon) from an aneurysm on his way to the hospital. I was in complete shock. At the funeral, his side of the family did want my mom to do that old tradition, but she refused. We performed our ceremony instead.

I am very religious and spiritual, and I believe that at the exact moment my father died, God had somehow sent us the message. There had been no other reason for my mom to talk about that tradition until that day.

Sonya Devi
sonya.devi@yahoo.com

Posted January 31, 2008