What do I want to be when I grow up and die? An "Ancestor" like our friend Giriraj Rao. He illumined the way Saturday from his place of honor, the flowered-strewn casket holding the last of his earthly remains. His was a Hindu service held in a non-sectarian funeral home. His loving spirit was in complete accord with two stained glass windows behind him. One featured a kindly face surrounded by children, the other that same person surrounded by animals. Did the Buddhists among us see a bodhisattva, the Jews and Muslims a prophet and those inspired by nature a shepherd, where Christians saw a messiah? No matter. We were all there because of our deep common humanity, just as Giri always saw himself and everyone else despite the fact he'd been born into a Brahmin family in India.
People from every walk of life, every color and hue, every age and station were united in the memories of Giri and the promise of spring. There was no need to pick between the exquisite simplicity of dogwood in full bloom outside and the flowers Giri might well have preferred be gifts to his Gandhi Foundation USA. And no need to flaunt citizenship or ethnicity, either. Giri was as fiercely proud to be American as he was appalled by the injustices his adopted nation continues to perpetrate at home and abroad.
Many spoke, much was said. But who present will ever forget the noisy entrance of the gravely ill old Black man, the bed he'd left no doubt still warm? No movie could replicate how he interrupted the proceedings. His struggle up the aisle to take the podium. He was not going to die before softly saying, "Giri was my best friend." Then he turned, struggled down the steps. looked one last time at us all. And was gone.
Given Giri's passion for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Mahatma Gandhi and the nonviolence they championed, it was impossible for me not to reflect back 40 years as I sat there across from what remained of Giri. Memphis, April 5, 1968. Standing with sanitation workers, struggling to cope with yet another murder of a great leader. Inviting myself back into the present, sitting beside Dr. King's nephew in celebration rather than grief, I accepted yet another quiet gift from Giriraj.
And when the service was complete, a final revelation. It was after we'd all passed by Giri's flowered casket. Placed flower petals on what remained of his worn out old body. They'd closed the casket. We'd followed his family downstairs accompanied by the sound of an elevator which arrived in the basement with us. We quietly made our way through the "business" part of a funeral home. But was I the only one who saw the grim humor in the bumper sticker over the timeclock ("FUN")? Or register the smells? Wonder about those who do the work most of us deny needs doing?
Efficient professionals rolled that casket into position before three large cremation ovens. Pallbearers lifted Giri's casket and pushed it into the oven. The door was lowered and locked. By now, the silence was total. As if in slow motion, Giri's sons' hands overlapped as together they pressed "Start." We all stood frozen, in time as much as in place, part of the vast parade of bereaved standing before funeral pyres of every description over millennia. Some sounds are never forgotten. One will always be the sound of Giri returning to the dust from which we all come.
The renowned Jungian psychologist James Hillman champions spiritual and psychological Ancestors, quite apart from genetic ones. An Ancestor, he says, continues to influence us. Stays with us. Helps us in trouble. People you remember. People you go back to in your mind - how they met crises or got through something; how they changed the world; how they laughed. Simple things and rich. Dr. Hillman counts certain books among his Ancestors. Others feel animals and dream figures also fit. What does it take to become an Ancestor? Stand in your own character, he says.
Giriraj Rao did just that. He would probably have said "Guru" where I say Ancestor. Giri always called his beloved friend Joy Berry his Guru. She closed the service for us all with her usual eloquence. And for me, the "last word" comes from another of Giriraj Rao's Gurus, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.:
"I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality. ...I believe that unarmed truth an unconditional love will have the final word." So did Giriraj Rao. My Ancestor.
You can find James Hillman and other people we consider Ancestors among our Leading Edge Guests on "The Paula Gordon Show", at our website, http://www.PaulaGordon.com.