A Mother’s Love, A Mother’s Gift

Murari Caitanya das (ACBSP ), Aug 14, USA — I went back home last week to attend my mother’s funeral. The day before the funeral the rabbi interviewed my brother, sister and I for the eulogy. When he asked us about the gifts our mother had given us, the list of tangible things was small (although considering she was a widow, it was indeed significant).

We all agreed, however, that the best gifts she gave all of us were freedom, opportunity and independence. In each of our cases, those gifts played out a little differently. In my brother’s case, it meant becoming a Zionist, joining a kibbutz and fighting for Israel. For my sister, it meant marrying a man who, although was someone my mother would never have chosen, she nonetheless accepted.

For me, it meant joining the Hare Krishna movement in 1973. In those days joining ISKCON entailed a deep level of renunciation and fervor which greatly curtailed involvement with our families. This hurt my mother a great deal. Still, my mother was always there for me and on one or two occasions was practically a lifesaver.

My mother represented the true American spirit. She married a man whom she met upon his return from World War II after fighting bravely for those very principles of freedom, opportunity and independence. The mood of giving is also truly American. I believe it was no accident that Srila Prabhupada came to America first. In no other country would parents be so generous in giving their sons and daughters to Srila Prabhupada. When asked for a donation, the mother of Brahmananda and Gargamuni, said to Srila Prabhupada, ” I have already given you my sons, what more do you want?” Although my mother could not understand my joining ISKCON and never visited the Temple, at the same time she never criticized my decision or tried to pull me away. She seemed to accept all such things in her life which were beyond her understanding as the will of Providence.

My father died at the age of 44. My mother was widowed at 38 and was a beautiful women. She lived her entire life never even considering re-marrying. I do not recall her ever even going on a date. Such devotion is very rare nowadays. The struggles in her life began when her mother died early, leaving her and her sister fostered out to relatives because their father was incapable of caring for them. Coming from such a broken family, she was anxious to start one of her own, only to then lose her dear husband in the beginning of their song.

And yet from such a life she was able to give a gift to the most worthy of recipients, His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada.

Having an opportunity to be alone with her reposed body the evening before the funeral, I placed some Vrindavana dust on my mother’s head and chanted the Mahamantra. I then wished her a safe journey, confident that Srila Prabhupada would never forget the gift she had given him.

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