Grandma, say hi to Buddha

A couple of days ago I received one of those e-mails that leaves you slightly numb for a few moments and then you feel a rush of blood going straight up to your head. The e-mail was entitled "Death of Grandma Stenia". It was an e-mail from my mother informing me (and my brother) that my grandmother, the one living in Krakow, had passed away. I received this on Sunday. Being in Cambodia, I felt rather ridiculously isolated from the entire thing, like there is some sort of an imaginary wall between life here and the "back home"...I wanted desperately to speak to my parents - to hear something more beyond a couple of paragraphs about her passing, funeral plans and so on...but to no avail. Perhaps I am that far away here.I cried a little. I think that is normal - to be sad, to feel that familiar empty space...I went out into the city for some sort of comfort.
Finding myself amongst unfamiliar faces which are carrying on like nothing has happened is somehow comforting. I ended up at an orphanage. Spent some time feeding, bathing, changing and playing with the little orphan babies with the nuns that run it. I brought over some baby powder and clothes a friend gave me in Canada. I dedicated my day to my grandma.
In the late afternoon I felt I needed to be somewhere holy, somewhere spiritual so I could say good bye. I ended up at Wat Phnom - a Buddhist temple on a hill in Phnom Penh. I walked around the complex until I got up to the very top. I watch what people were doing in the temple. I asked a woman selling lotus flowers and incense if I could pray to Buddha as well. She smiled, said yes, and handed me lotus flowers and incense. "Two dollars" she said with a pretty smile. I guess we humored one another-she that I wanted to pray to Buddha, I that even at teh temple everything has its price.
I lit the incense and as it smoked I placed it between my hands, knelt in front of Buddha (making sure my feet were not pointing in Buddha's direction). I thought about my grandmother...that she had beautiful wings to take her soul wherever it need to go to be at peace. I placed the incense into a large bowl, like everybody else. The bowl is full of ashes from burning incense...ashes to ashes, dust to dust. I walked a little more into the temple, a little hesitant and self conscious because I did not want to be disrespectful to Buddha or those praying. A nice man indicated that I should place the lotus flowers in a vase next to Buddha. My gift to Buddha. My gift to my grandmother on her grave. Buddhist believe that Buddha was born out of the lotus flower hence it has a very strong symbolic and religious meaning. I gave the lotus flower to my grandmother's soul. Rebirth, birth, death - a continuation of the cycle...beginning or end I don't know. I left the temple and walked back down the hill, the heat and monkeys reminding me gently where I was. I felt lightness in my heart. I did not feel sad anymore. The emptiness is still there, but it doesn't make me want to cry.