Sarah, my little sister passed away last Wednesday after a brief, hard battle with pneumonia. The little handicapped girl I shared a room with for over a decade has flown away. A dear friend of mine sent me a comment on Facebook yesterday and this is how it read: "Cora. I am so sorry for you and your family. May your beliefs and faith comfort you whilst Sarah's spirit searches for another place in samsara."
Before I get too far into this, I'd like to explain "samsara" as best I can. For those familiar with it, forgive me. I've only been a buddhist for about a year.
Samsara literally translates to "wandering onward," and is defined as the "wheel of suffering" that we cycle through from life to life to life. We must complete a journey through samsara before attaining enlightenment and moving to nirvana. Samsara is often defined as if it were a place, such as purgatory, but actually it is a process. The Assu Sutta tells of a time where the Buddha illustrated samsara to his monks. The story starts with a question: Which is greater - the tears you have shed while wandering this long time or the four great oceans?
"Long have you (repeatedly) experienced the death of a father... the death of a brother... the death of a sister... the death of a son... the death of a daughter... loss with regard to relatives... loss with regard to wealth... loss with regard to disease. The tears you have shed over loss with regard to disease while transmigrating & wandering this long, long time — crying & weeping from being joined with what is displeasing, being separated from what is pleasing — are greater than the water in the four great oceans. "Why is that? From an inconstruable beginning comes transmigration. A beginning point is not evident, though beings hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving are transmigrating & wandering on. Long have you thus experienced stress, experienced pain, experienced loss, swelling the cemeteries — enough to become disenchanted with all fabricated things, enough to become dispassionate, enough to be released."
Naturally, my friend's comments caused me to think deeply on Sarah - rather, on the soul that was most recently called Sarah. It seems fitting that her name was part of the word samsara, as if these lessons that are about to follow were meant to be learned from her at this very moment.
Sarah was born Sandra the December following my birth. She was born to a different mother who did not care for herself or the twin babies in her belly. Only Sandra lived, but was too disabled for the girl to care for on her own. So Sandra became a ward of the state of Massachusetts. She had cerebral palsy and was quadriplegic. When my parents adopted her, she was sedated all of the time and had a feeding tube...which must have been the product of some laziness along the way as this did not continue for long after she was adopted into my family.
Sandra became Sarah out of my parents' hope that she could one day utter her own name. She was a loving and smart girl, trapped - nearly quelled by her reluctant body. Every day of her life was filled with what I would have perceived as suffering. But she smiled. She loved. She made happiness.
Sarah took a body that would not speak for her and built solid and loving relationships. In her own way and time she made that body be enough. She sang, she danced, she even swam.
To me, Sarah's life was the ultimate test. She turned a life that I would have thought to be an unliveable hell and she made it blissful. Certainly she still had her moods and idiosyncracies like the rest of us, but she was happier than I've ever been - and my body is completely cooperative.
So I do not believe that Sarah has gotten back on her path through samsara. She has taken a graceful step off the chain, onto the 109th bead, and is journeying to nirvana. Goodbye, little lady. I hope to be a good enough soul to join you one day.
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