Taking Nothing

We sat on her bed, puffy-eyed and heartbroken. She had been the matriarch of their family and the glue that bound them together. The jewelry she had been wearing when she died was strewn across the bed, her last earthly possessions. My husband’s mother, my Attayagaru, had given away almost all of her jewelry and material items, except for the items on the bed and the saris in her closet. Her children, their spouses and offspring assembled in her room for one last time to divide the remaining items. It was a gathering to which nobody wanted an invitation, but one we honored nevertheless.

We opened the cupboard where my mother-in-law stored her saris and found a world of treasure. As we took down each one of her colorful saris, we pictured her wearing them at different occasions throughout her eighty years of life. We found the faded mauve-colored sari with beautiful designs sewn in gold thread that she wore to my wedding reception. I remembered her dancing with her son that evening flashing that big toothy grin. Oh how she enjoyed that day! My Attayagaru was gone and this was all that remained. I grabbed her sari and held it close.

We found the saris she had been gifted through the years from family and friends, all meticulously ironed and maintained. Interspersed in her cupboard we found candy wrappers that gave us a little chuckle. If there was one item that my Attayagaru loved above else it was American chocolate, especially Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. At the end of her life, she wasn’t supposed to eat them and she knew this. But tucked into the saris and blouses were remnants of her guilty pleasures that brought smiles to our faces. We were grateful for her indulgences and her little rebellion. This was one of the things we loved most about this fierce woman and a trait that remained until the end of her days.

As we returned to her jewelry on the bed, it finally hit me that in death, one takes nothing with them. Absolutely nothing. One leaves this Earth the same way they came with nothing in hand. It seems like such a small realization that felt so profound at the time. I’m not sure why but it has stuck with me ever since. With the last of her jewelry claimed, I held on to my Attayagaru’s ring that day wishing it were her hand instead.