Goodbye, Grandma…
I lost my grandmother yesterday.
It was expected, though not really this quickly.
She was many things, among them a librarian; a cancer survivor; and a very stereotypical grandparent in her sweetness, generosity, and unconditional love.
I remember one of the few visits we had where it was just the two of us. I had gone to New Jersey to try to be helpful after her first bout of health problems about ten years ago. At this point, I had committed myself seriously to Buddhist practice and study, and had recently come back from a semester living abroad in a Burmese monastery in India. We were in the car one day, and she, a devout Catholic, asked out of the blue, “Is compassion important in Buddhism?”
“Yes.”
“Looking after people, being a good neighbor?”
“Yes.”
“Well, O.K.”
That Christmas, I received a large box from my grandmother. I had no idea what to expect, and opened it to find a beautiful Buddha statue. I still have it to remind me of the loveliest interfaith encounter I ever had: the one with my grandma.




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