Today I had played a CD my son gave me last week. It has been sitting on my desk for a week now and it’s very unlike me. It was a CD he had made for Pritham but never gave it to her. He made me a copy. The first song was so profound I was sobbing. My super sensitive son (who acts like he is not) let me know that he profoundly got his sister’s struggle and that he deeply appreciated her in so many ways.

He is not a man of many words, but through this mixed CD he communicated more profoundly what he did not say in words. At her memorial he self-assigned to be in charge of parking. No one asked him; he just saw it and did it. He stayed down there helping latecomers, all the while hearing all that was going on and being a part of it in his way.

I was greatful for his calm, still presence; greatful that he came to and through me; greatful that he loved and got his sister more than I ever knew.

They are so different from one another. He, living in Oregon off-grid, a contractor, with a wonderful partner and children, a close and loving group of friends, some new and most he grew up (in more ways than one) with. Boys to men and they have wonderful women in their lives. She, driven to do more and be more, had communities all over, was in medical school. She took her disease as something to study and create a site with all that she had learned and ways to beat cancer, your cancer. She knew that her practice would be that. She knew she would make it through. She always planned and succeeded at whatever she tackled. I had no doubt that she would succeed in this journey too. Success just looked different than I thought it would or should. She too had the love of her life. She too had a community that was with her till the end and beyond.

Who is your community? How do you serve it? How do you cherish it and help it grow? You are part of my community and I am feeding you my heart and soul. Please eat up.

Wahe Guru love to you,

Gurutej Khalsa