The body trolley

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Ten

My mother’s body was pushed out from the CICU, on a body trolley, along the corridors of the hospital, on the way to the mortuary. These were the same passages, 40 days ago, that she was pushed through, on her way to the operating theater, for her fatal surgery. On the first trip, it was day light, but now, the last journey, it was in the dark of night.

Accompanying the trolley, it was difficult holding on to what was real and what was imaginary. What was there to hold on to-was it the body, the soul or what else? Just a while ago, there was my mother’s whole life time and now, it is just the dead body rolling along. How to make sense of our past, present and future? Was it all planned or mindlessness existence? How about thinking of it as continuous change, moving from one reality to another and another forever etc…?

I think that there is no single meaning or truth to our life, on earth or beyond. We live life according to our own understanding or lack of it, which ever may be the case. My mother, in her own way, had a pretty fulfilled life, more or less. Who is to judge?

There was an endless and random series of images and words passing through my mind as I went about making plans for the funeral. My mother’s body will be in the mortuary for a few days. This will give my sister and her husband, just enough time, to fly back from abroad, to take part in the last ceremony. When they arrive, we will then bring the corpse back to our house. The wake will be for two nights.