Our Community’s Harrowing Narrations of Pain and Loss

“Honour your grief, for it is sacred.” - Jim Carrey 

Wife: I’m sad and miss him dearly, but I pretend to go on, and when memories come flooding in, I allow myself to cry and grieve. However, he was tired, and it wasn’t fair to hold on. Although my children have opened their homes to me in their respective countries, I’d rather hold onto my personal space and freedom till I can. 

Daughter: My mother is rooted in naam and is positive. She was our pillar, the ‘sahara’, the supportive strength to bear whatever life brought. My father passed away, content, as he couldn’t have wished for more love than what he received from all his near and dear ones, even those not on talking terms.

Sister: It was an emotional shock when my young brother passed, leaving behind a growing family. He was recovering well, and there wasn’t a ‘no, not again’ phase, so even the doctor didn’t expect it. Nonetheless, no one can fight fate, and he succumbed to pneumonia. There’s no planning for life; life plans itself.

Wife: Looking back, I don’t know how I went through those frightening, unpredictable, crazy fluctuations in platelet count and how he’d be fine one minute, then go into septic shock; especially terrifying was, he’d faint and fall without a warning. But with Babaji holding my hand and the blessed love and support of my family, I somehow managed, though more like a zombie or a robot. But I never thought I would lose him!

Son: Earlier, Mom was the one providing support to her relatives going through cancer, most of whom lost the battle. So, when her diagnosis showed up, she and dad, who stayed by her side throughout, hunted down and pushed their way into alternative healings.

My sister visited daily, and my brother paused his life abroad and came home to be present. Although I can't speak on others’ behalf, overall, I felt helpless, as she would get better and then it would resurface. 

Mom experienced a burst of energy the day before she left and sat us down, leaving us with positive memories. I was relieved when she passed, knowing she was finally freed from the constant pain.

Self: I am cancer-free, but nothing comes for free. It's like buy one and get several for free: BP, Sugar, OCD, negative thoughts. The medicines addressed the physical aspects, but my psychological issues needed family, friends, alternative remedies like Rekhi, Pranic healing, crystal healing, group prayers in Churches, Buddhist monasteries, and Sai Samiti.

Sister: Just thinking of my brother’s joyful, cheerful nature makes me want to cry. It’s impossible to express and difficult to put into words. It’s like losing a limb, but you carry on, though you don’t want to.

There’s no end to our grief losing him so young and within a very short time of discovering the cancer, especially for my very aged mother, who lived with him.

She’s now sickly and doesn’t want to eat; she has depression and suffers sleepless nights; her heart is broken into bits. We, siblings, are being supportive to her and to each other, but with mom’s prayers, Babaji’s grace continues to keep her and us strong.

Wife: My husband had minimal side effects from the chemo and a good recovery. Our family has strong faith and jaranshakti, the strength to bear and accept without harbouring negativity.

I’m eternally thankful for the 'utshah' and hope that we received from his colleagues, relatives, and friends; also, to the house staff who’ve stood by to clean and prepare healthy food for us. God has looked after me so well and continues to do so; what else can I ask for! 

Husband: I misinterpreted my wife’s exhaustion and her hunch that something wasn’t ok with her body as laziness, to quit her job and attend to her usual housework. Her persistence, despite multiple checkups coming up with nothing, proved correct.

I felt horribly guilty; besides being stunned and shocked, the salary here wasn’t affording the treatments. So, we shifted back to India, where I took up two jobs and somehow, with Guru’s blessing, she’s now in remission. 

Self: I was shocked when I found a lump during a breast self-exam, and knew it then and there, but hoped against hope, but the results came back confirming a stage-3 cancer. I remember the feeling of failure. How was it that this thing was growing in my body and I didn’t even know? Notice? Was I that stupid?

Then, preparing myself for the worst-case scenario, I sat myself down to list out the minute things in life one never pays attention to until life slaps you in the face: the Will, financials, who to inform, etc.

I trusted my doctor and didn’t Google into a heap of nonsense, mostly false, fake,and misleading, that only upsets one mentally and emotionally, as does the hearsay and garbage from people’s theories. Cancer is a mind game/disease and best tackled with a calm, rational, and positive mindset.

So, I completed the core chemo and radiation in 2007, including the 5-year follow-up medication. I’m cancer-free, at least at the time. The disease helped me realise the strength I didn’t know I had, and also to address my bad habits. It also sieved out my core friends from those who weren’t.

I was stunned that living here, in the West, our South Asian community of the Indus descent still thinks cancer is communicable and shuns the person afflicted, as if getting cancer is their fault. I was so thankful I live alone after seeing firsthand how an elderly patient living with her son and his family wasn’t allowed anyone into her room, not even the grandchildren.

Her room was filthy and had bugs; her food was placed outside her door, and only after her son and daughter-in-law were at a ‘safe distance’ could she retrieve it. Chemo kills the cells in your body indiscriminately, and it looked like the food she was getting wasn’t agreeing with her. She was slowly starving, and no one noticed. It was horrible!

Sister: Just thinking of my brother’s joyful, cheerful nature makes me want to cry. It’s impossible to express and difficult to put into words. It’s like losing a limb, but you carry on, though you don’t want to.

There’s no end to our grief losing him so young and within a very short time of discovering the cancer, especially for my very aged mother, who lived with him.

She’s now sickly and doesn’t want to eat; she has depression and suffers sleepless nights; her heart is broken into bits. We siblings are being supportive to her and to each other, but with mom’s prayers and paths, Babaji’s grace continues to keep her and us strong.

Daljeet Saluja: After my first chemo, I decided to offer my shoulders and my ears to cancer patients and advise them on lifestyle and alternative nutrients. I also try to expel the notion in our Asian men that their wives’ breast cancer is not a curse, but a treatable illness.