Farewell, My Huckleberry Friend

Annamaria in Japan*

Some of you know that my husband of forty-four years has been suffering from Alzheimer's disease for more than fourteen years.  Lately, the devastation has been so acute that he was robbed of all but the merest vestige of his formerly bright, witty, vibrant self.

Word came to me here in Japan, just a few days ago, that he had died peacefully in his sleep--an event anticipated, but not expected at the time.  I found myself half a world away from him.  But, truth be told, it had been many, many years since he had been a part of the world we all live in.  Arrangements were in place.  My brother was on call, just in case.

What to do?  Should I rush back to New York to deal immediately with the aftermath of this event?  I was at a loss to know.  My darling friend Susan was here with me.  She listened sympathetically while I tried to understand my own feelings.

We were in Kyoto.  Our next planned destination was a sacred mountain, a centre of peace and spiritual renewal for a millennium and a half.  It seemed clear to me that fate was sending me to a place where a person might find enlightenment.  I chose to make that journey.

With Susan as my dear and understanding, wise and knowledgeable companion, I spent the next days visiting temples and shrines.  Walking the paths of serenity and peace.

Brought up a devout Catholic, I had for many years separated myself from the religion of my youth. In Koyasan, prayer once again became natural and comforting for me. Especially in Ukunion. 

  

At the shrine within the cemetery precincts, pilgrims light candles and burn incense in memory of the departed.  As the smoke from the incense rose, a realisation came to me, that David's soul was free, returned to its pure and original state, without the scars inflicted by his miserable childhood.  Just him, his kind, sweet, and funny, energetic and curious self.

In Koyasan, there is also a shrine that Susan describes like this:

The Otake Jizo is one of the largest cast copper statues on Koyasan. The statue takes its name from Mrs. Take Yokoyama, a woman from Edo (now called Tokyo) who donated this Jizo to Koyasan in May of 1745. According to an inscription on the base of the statue, the Bodhisattva Jizo appeared to Mrs. Take in a dream while she was staying at the nearby Fudozaka-guchi nyonindo and praying for the soul of her deceased husband. Upon awaking from the dream, Mrs. Take had the idea to commission and donate a statue of Jizo to Koyasan. The Otake Jizo has remained on display at this location since that time.

Known as Kṣitigarbha in Sanskrit, Jizo is a bodhisattva—a compassionate being who attains Buddhahood but remains compassionately attached to this world for the purpose of helping other souls in need. Jizo is a protector and patron of travelers, children, and those in need, including the souls of the deceased. He is often portrayed as a Buddhist priest with a halo around his head. His left hand holds a wish-fulfilling jewel, while his right hand wields a staff with which he forces open the gates of hell to help imprisoned souls escape. 

If ever there was a place for a woman to contemplate a loss like mine, this must be it.

So my journey continues.  

Here, along with the photo at the top, are a few of my dearest images of David at his happiest.

7 September 1974

 Farewell my boon companion, my Huckleberry Friend.

* In consideration of the nature of my news, Susan has kindly offered me her slot for Sunday in addition to mine on Monday.