I just found out that my Uncle Chet passed away last night. His death was expected and marks the end of a long and rough battle with cancer. I was not particularly close to him but have fond memories of visiting his house as a kid, a house my grandmother now inhabits. I remember him leaning against the kitchen counter, quietly chain smoking, occasionally interjecting a smart and funny remark into whatever conversation was happening. He was a stoic, sarcastic, and successful man, and his wife and grown children are some of my favorite people in the world. I know this Thanksgiving morning, the day after his 71st birthday, is going to be unlike any other for them. I hope (pray?) that the Kobylakiewicz family can find some moments of relief, comfort, and gratitude amidst their present grief now in days to come. Daddy Cool forever.
Two days ago marked the first anniversary of my husband’s father’s passing. His was a journey similar to my uncle’s, and naturally I am feeling a little reflective on matters of life and death. I don’t really have much insight to share at this time, other than maybe this: go hug someone today. Give thanks for them, your family, your friends, your neighbors, your acquaintences. The people who you love with all your heart and those who mildly annoy you. Maybe bow your head to your Ishvara and be grateful for the time you have together, the good days and seemingly bad. In retrospect, they’re all good days, until they’re gone. Happy Thanksgiving, friends.
THE LITTLE YOGI THAT COULD 