It is only five days ago that Kamalashila died. A good friend is kindly staying with me these past days. We have taken all the excess medication, a big bag, back to the pharmacy, labels removed as requested previously. This included the end-of-life drugs. The bag was big and the pharmacist looked hesitant. I said: my husband died. She could not refuse. My friend and I gently sorted through clothes and taken some to a charity. We made a start tackling the bodhi tree in the virtual vihara. This is how I have started referring to the room in this flat that Kamalashila used for his online sessions. Where he sat and talked to visiting friends. Where he wrote at his desk. We also meditated there in the mornings. Back to the bodhi tree: it developed into a small tree out of a cutting from the tree in Bodhgaya. We were sent two cuttings by post twelve years ago or so, and because we missed the delivery had to collect from the post office a few days later. One did not survive the transit. The other is still alive, but going through various episodes of assault by insects, among other things. At the moment it is rife with aphids. Kamalashila would treat that tree and it hasn’t had much attention in recent times. So my friend and I have been removing aphids from leaves and stems with a sponge and soapy water. There are quite a lot of leaves. She regards it as a meditative activity. I am not that keen.
The medical examiner phoned yesterday about the death certificate. This was about what had been suggested as the cause of death. He had carefully gone through the medical records and was asking how everything had been and whether I had comments and suggestions about the care Kamalashila had received. It was a good conversation and he was kind and considerate, but it stirred me up. It brought everything back again. In as far as it had been away. It is all quite a lot that is coming towards me in the aftermath of Kamalashila’s demise. There is so much to do, think about, arrange, decide. Luckily a great number of issues can be dealt with further down the line. But right now I am experiencing overload. I also need to attend to how I feel, to experience the energies in my body. My heart is too full and tense. So I am sitting here and I write. It usually helps bringing some sort of order and perspective. It is all still too much. Far too much. How strange this all comes with a loss.