Last night the Heat was on, winning another championship, my mother's friends Juana and Udine both woke up around 12:30 AM thinking of her, knowing about her illness. I was by her side, holding her hand. She fell asleep, then stopped breathing, at just about thirty minutes after midnight.

Her health had been gradually deteriorating for the past six months, and finally she was no longer able to stand, so I made made the call for her to go to the hospital. A week later she was in hospice care at the hospital, and a week after that, she was at home, where she wanted to be. During her stay in hospital I was tormented by the thought that I could miss her ultimate leave-taking because I would be in India. Meanwhile she was worried about her illness disturbing my life....I reassured her over and over that everything was fine. At a certain point she woke up, looked me right in the eyes, and in her sweet, soft, utterly lucid voice, whispered, "I think you should go to India." Her love melted away all my fears in that moment.

She had many friends and acquaintances who were touched by her warm heart in many different ways. In the last few years, I began to open up to her, talking about my life, and she did what so few people really know how to do: she listened, without judgement, and without loads of well-meaning but cumbersome advice. She just listened. She is in my heart, and will be forever, throughout future existences; she is a Buddha who left this life with warm hands and an incredibly strong spirit to make up for her failing heart. Just before she died she had several long sips of water, and then left with dignity. I love you, mum.