The day of Ratna’s funeral (Concluding Part 1)

I woke up on the day of Ratna’s funeral feeling very strange.  It was like a little bit hung over and a large bit disoriented.  I knew where I was, in the guest room of the Jyothi Seva Home for Blind Children.  But it was as if another part of me was somewhere else.  Where was that, though? Later I was to find out.

 As I washed and dressed I tried to pull the missing piece of me back from where it had gone. At breakfast I gulped down several strong coffees I had brewed myself hoping to get the fuzz off my brain.

I was still only about 40 percent when the priest arrived and performed the funeral Mass. The nuns and the children and a few guests were crying.  Earlier the children had gone, one by one, up to Ratna’s body, lying in the coffin, and they touched it all over, feeling and seeing her death with their finger tips, absorbing the finality of it.  Each child had placed a flower in the coffin as a good-bye gesture. 

A young Polish woman, Wanda, who worked with the nuns and helped at the home mostly doing all the computer work, though she herself was blind, also walked slowly up to Ratna’s coffin for her last farewell.  Wanda was carrying an Indian baby, a blind dustbin baby girl that she had gotten from Mother Teresa’s home in Kolkata. 

Wanda wanted to raise the child herself and she wanted to adopt her. However, she was refused at first because of her disability and because she was unmarried.  Wanda’s prayers intensified as did the prayers of the nuns. The Jyothi Seva Home children also prayed.  After some time, Wanda received notice that she could adopt the baby since India has a special rule that people who are alone and handicapped are allowed to adopt a child.  It seemed a miracle—a huge boon.  At the time everyone agreed that it was the Grace of God that allowed for the happy union.  

So, there was the official mother carrying her baby daughter up to the coffin. Wanda took the baby’s hand, bent over Ratna’s body, and ran the hand across Ratna’s face. The tears of the children were rolling down like rain. My own eyes flooded and my vision was blurred. 

I sat on the chapel floor with the others but did not feel a part of the group. Outside the windows the sun was bright.  I could hear a variety of birds singing in the trees along with all the sounds of hectic Venkateshpuram going about the work of the day.  Suddenly, I wondered if I might be going to die myself, feeling so out-of-body, so nauseous, and now my head had begun to really throb. The scent from the flowers which would have ordinarily pleased me seemed to make the tiny chapel even tinier. I was sweating profusely and gasping for air.

Then it struck—a huge attack of panic. But why?  I let my body rock with terror. I clutched my blue-sapphire stone that hung from my gold neck chain tightly in my right hand. This was supposed to be my astrological gem, for protection.  Of course, I was praying to my Guru, Sathya Sai Baba. I did not want to keel over and die right in the middle of somebody else’s funeral. Gradually, the attack abated and before long we were on our way to the cemetery. I was still feeling wobbly and frightened, but I could function. To be continued

……to be continued in next Concluding Part 2 of Ratna Series.