TIES THAT BIND: MY BROTHER THREADS TOGETHER MY PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE

By DR PARUL DUA MAKKAR

What is legacy? It is defined as a long-lasting impact of a particular events, actions, that took place in the past or of a person’s life. Does one need to have a long life to leave a legacy or does a moment make a person’s legacy? Sometimes it’s the quality rather than a quantity of a life.

When I lost my younger and only sibling, I had no manuscript for how to process grief. He died at the time of COVID, when the world was collectively mourning other losses. I was away from my parents, my brother and my other core family and his friends. My parents were navigating through their own grief. I had the difficult task to say goodbye on a video call. No final hugs, kisses, no physical touch. I watched my parents do the unimaginable with a strength I can’t fathom. They kissed his deceased body and left the hospice alone and come home alone in the dark. These darkest hours were very hard and stay vivid in my mind. They defined the new person I became. Taking the flight to Canada from the US alone, knowing I am going to plan a funeral. Trying not to cry on the way because its challenging with a mask on. A lot of my grieving was alone, in my thoughts, while driving alone or when sleep became a stranger. My grief was unique. I had no core family near me, no one to remember him with. While my parents had each other, still another child and grandkids. I had no sibling, and his absence created a huge vacuum in my life.

 A sibling is a friend for life, the one who walks along you. A witness to a life that you once shared. You rely on your younger sibling to outlive you, not plan his funeral. Manu was meant to outlive my parents, my husband and me. He was meant to plan my funeral, telling my children my stories, not the other way around. In that present of March 2021, I lost the keeper of my past and a part of my future.

Life doesn’t go as planned. We try to make sense of the senseless. Grief has hit me like a tsunami taking my breath away, in silent tears and at times in happy memories. I can’t change the past but help navigate the future to a greater good. And I had to find a way to navigate this grief without losing myself or go in a dark and dangerous way. I had young children watching me and looking for guidance. This moment altered their lives tremendously. And it changed me.

I have realised that those who weren’t there for me in my sadness, whether family and friends, don’t need to be in my joys either. That time is a precious commodity, and I don’t need to justify how I spend it. It is mine for the time being. Money, wealth, physical commodities are all replaceable but time. Time can’t be returned, refunded or replaced. It is our most precious asset. So, to be wise with how and with whom you chose to spend it with.  

 Manu’s legacy were his words. He was perfectly happy knowing even if this book (Life Interrupted, Dr. Dua’s Survival Guide) didn’t come around, he had found peace, his soul. As he says, it was tragedy that made it so. I feel fortunate that he did leave a manuscript behind. Words that I can reflect on and still have him as a guide.

What helped me grief was this book, writing and helping him finish the journey he started. What helped was the podcast, Life Interrupted, Dr. Dua’s Survival Guide podcast companion. I was unable to be there for most of his life. I was a phone call, a flight away. I wasn’t there in his last days; I wasn’t there in person for the last goodbye. But I am extremely lucky, and I don’t say this lightly, to have this podcast. The guests on this podcast are special people and were selectively chosen, many were asked, few obliged. In gave me an insight to the other facets of Manu, stories I didn’t know. Getting snippets, filling in the gaps that I had. Things that I may have missed or overlooked. Things about Manu I took for granted. I didn’t have a village around me protecting me from grief. I created this village. This village is pretty special. Each guest spoke and expressed themselves in purity and for that I am grateful. Those who chose not be on the podcast, wrote to me, sharing his memories. I am touched by that. This was a way to express unexpressed love and final goodbyes. A chance stolen due to COVID. I hope that this helped bring them the closure we all needed. At the time of a loved one’s death, you really don’t know what happened. You are almost in autopilot; you are in shock. Doing but not processing. It is after a while that the mind realises what the body went through. People express their sympathies and leave. The guests of the podcast are the stragglers. Who stayed when it mattered, when the ashes had cooled, when the tears had dried, after the flowers had wilted and phone calls of sympathies had stopped. For each of them I am eternally grateful. Their plates are full in themselves, maybe overflowing, yet they carved time for Manu. I am grateful to know that Manu had different relationships with each of them and he was surrounded with love in his last days. He was and is still cherished and that is a big comfort.

 As we came to the end of this Podcast series, I want to share this story and this experience. After Manu’s death while in Calgary, I went hunting or the Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights. with my mom. I had never seen them before. It was a pants on night as per the chasers lingo, as all the values were just right for the viewing. So, I dragged my mom in the wee cold hours and we drove to the outskirts of Calgary. While driving I see the waves of white, I start taking pictures and I see the green hue. The lights are seen white with the naked eye and you will see the colours on camera. The lights were there and dancing. It is said by Native Canadians that the lights are the old souls coming to Earth to welcome the new souls. It is a time to rejoice, to celebrate. And if you listen ever so carefully, they sing to you. I saw those lights dance for a long time at 1 am.

That day was March 21, the day we cremated Manu. It was the Universe talking and I am grateful to it that it taught me to be strong, resilient and not lose hope. It gave me amazing parents that made me such. It gave me an incredible brother, although for a short time. It connected me to Diana who made this all possible. It helped me grieve with his friends. It showed me that Manu’s still out there listening and still teaching. I am grateful to you the listeners who have found meaning in this. May Manu’s death not be a statistic but a reflection. A reflection of how you want to lead your life, what matters to you, what dreams you want to accomplish, how you want to be remembered and memorialized. What is the legacy you leave behind?

 “…Our lives will come and go, but our ideas will remain immortal, and therefore in essence the soul behind our work remains eternal. So, seek not to fear your own mortality, but rather embrace the challenge to create something that will outlive your fears and wildest imaginations, such that you may be able to provide service years after you have dearly departed. Live with the strength that not only is this not possible, but quiet tangible if we can simply let go of fears that will not serve us with any purpose in this life or next.” – Excerpt from Life Interrupted, Dr. Dua’s Survival Guide by Dr. Manu Dua

Life Interrupted, Dr. Dua’s Survival Guide contains Manu Dua’s musings on life as he faced his own mortality at the age of 34. He talks about finding beauty in small things, facing fear, learning from failure, respecting death and to leave the world a better place. It is available on Amazon.

You can listen to the podcast here.