The way I remember it, the shining sun was beating down on the bleached sidewalk just outside the hospital, and the sun-rays were reflected back up from this glistening surface in such a way that the pinpoint rays caused sharp jabbing pains in my eyes. Sure it was a hot and beautiful day which imbued a sense of inspiration despite the extreme sadness I felt as I walked hand-in-hand with my sisters to the car. We would escape the sadness of reality by driving to the beach for a long and pensive stroll.
It is hard to believe that my father died two years ago. I think that by now I have "almost" recovered. I do not think that any son fully recovers one hundred percent from the death of his father, but that is part of the ways of nature. Carry on the torch so to say. In tribute, I include the following quotation which I think my father also liked.
"To die is to have a mind that is completely empty of itself, empty of its daily longings, pleasures and agonies. Death is renewal, a mutation, in which thought does not function at all because thought is old. When there is death there is something totally new. Freedom from the known is death, and then you are living."My father was also at one time or other interested in this kind of stuff, because he had a modest collection of books by this fine philosopher of life. Whether or not he really read the collection seriously or really believed in it I am not sure, but still I find this quote more than appropriate to the situation and the way I feel about it.
- Krishnamurti, Freedom From the Known (Chapter IX: Time-Sorrow-Death).
If you are interested in reading the complete chapter and learn more about this stuff, then I invite you to visit my Krishnamurti page.