Discomfort & Grief and other Wisdom Teachers

A note before you read: This offering talks about the passing and the days after my mom death, some 8 years ago. It may be tender to read, but I wanted to share about grief and a way I have supported such a big life transition.

It was 3:40 a.m. when the phone rang on the morning of November 8th. I had spent the week before helping my dad care for my mom as she moved closer to her final breaths here in the earthly realm. My sister had arrived, and we’d finally gone to rest before returning. Alas, the time had come—nearer than not—and so we flew to my parents’ house on a wing and a prayer.

The final hours were quiet. Around 8 a.m., my mom’s breath shifted once more until we were met with silence. Her appearance had transformed so much in those last days that the medical practitioner in me stood in awe. And now, right before my eyes, the vessel of her life force lay still. Something deep within took over, guiding me through the ancient rites my heart remembered. I sang to her, washed her body and hair, and adorned her with flowers and stones. My youngest read aloud from the small book by her bedside—gentle words by His Holiness the Dalai Lama. And then, we sat. Her body stiffened quickly, though her belly remained warm for hours.

The days that followed are blurred, filled with things I can hardly recall. Yet one truth began to emerge clearly: I was entering a grief ritual. Spirit guided me to observe forty days in reverence of her passing. The immediate grief was tender, visceral, and instinctive. The deeper mourning that followed was far more difficult. In those first days, I simply followed the gentle whisper of Spirit—an unseen thread helping me navigate this liminal space filled with ethereal conversation and long walks among the ancestors.