Now Simon and I are in Goa. We are here to rest, and that's what we plan to do, but also I am reflecting on everything that happened in the past week. We don't have such a good internet connection so I'm not sure how much the blog will progress, but here's something.
This is on Saturday afternoon, 12 January 2013, around 4 pm. We only found this spot about 11 am. By the afternoon, the cross was in place, we had bought flowers, and we arrived back for prayers.
On the far right is Father Swami. He is the senior priest at the St Francis Cathedral Church in Bhopal. Such a kind man. He said formal prayers, and it was comforting to realise that the same liturgy was used on 27 May 1982. Whatever some may think of the Catholic Church--and no church is perfect--I find it incredibly comforting to know that the prayers and faith remain constant over the years. Perhaps the form of words may change a little, but the heart and essence is the same. This is actually the thought I had on Christmas eve. In Longton, near where I live, there is St Gregory's church. One of the teachers at the college where I was teaching plays the organ, and our first Christmas in the area, she invited us to the carol service/children's service/ mass. We have been attending every Christmas eve since then. Catherine accompanied us when we attended during the last Christmas that she stayed with us--December 2009. She was very respectful and sang along to the familiar carols. And the two Christmas eves since she died, I have continued attending. The first year I cried a lot; this time I was calmer until they sang about "citizens of heavens above." That reduces me to tears. But when I first walked into the church--I was early and it was nearly empty--and I looked up at the big modernistic statue of Jesus on the cross and I thought, it's so comforting to come hear year after year and find the church standing solid. There may be differences in the liturgy and services, but the foundation remains. That thought has stayed with me, and now I've found another fulfilment in finding St Francis Church.
The man standing next to Father Swami is Joaquim. Joaquim was only 18 or 19 when Pax died, but as the only (?) Indian national living in the community of our co-workers in Bhopal, it fell on him to help with the burial. He and a Greek man named John asked a rickshaw driver for the church, and this is where (we now know!) they brought him. The priest had a little one coffin on hand, a coffin with a cross on the top. This seemed rather incredible, but we now know that at that time, the coffin makers and grave diggers lived right there in the church compound.
They lay Pax in the coffin and the grave was dug. They prayed over him and I think Joaquim also brought flowers. He was so young and so inexperienced. I never knew who had helped with the burial until I posted a notice on the electronic bulletin board of the religious community with whom I used to work. His wife responded. That was maybe a year ago or perhaps even less. Joaquim travelled up from Goa to help us in our search for Pax's grave. He was the only one who could show us where it was, so he has been crucial to our search.
Why didn't I know, you may ask? I will tell you that in another post. I want to finish describing the picture.
Next to Joaquim is the young Father whose name escapes me for the moment. (I will edit this when I have my notebook on hand.) It was his kindness and generosity of spirit, offering us time to take tea and sit down to talk when we arrived in the morning to recommence our search (the previous days had been disheartening, to put it mildly!) and it was from him that we discovered that years ago, yes, they used to bury people next to the church. Later on the main cemetery was enlarged and now it would be unheard of for someone to be buried like this. That's one reason our search was so difficult. Nobody could believe a priest would bury a child in the grounds of a church.
Sitting on the chair, well you can guess who that is. And next to me is the taxi driver. We had a hired car throughout our Bhopal trip and we could not have managed without it. There were two drivers that alternated days. They became involved in the search. Can you imagine how it moved me, on the last day, to be driving past the hospital and the driver mentioning Pax and that was where he was deceased. To have my son remembered, acknowledged, this is so important.
The other men in the picture are staff from the church compound.
Simon was taking pictures.
One very important person missing from this picture is Sandeep, the pastor with a heart of gold, who was our guide and support throughout our stay in Bhopal. I'll write more about Sandeep when we talk about the search, and then the church service on Sunday morning.
There are many things to say about that little ceremony on Saturday afternoon, and how we came to be there, but I'll save it for next time.
On the far right is Father Swami. He is the senior priest at the St Francis Cathedral Church in Bhopal. Such a kind man. He said formal prayers, and it was comforting to realise that the same liturgy was used on 27 May 1982. Whatever some may think of the Catholic Church--and no church is perfect--I find it incredibly comforting to know that the prayers and faith remain constant over the years. Perhaps the form of words may change a little, but the heart and essence is the same. This is actually the thought I had on Christmas eve. In Longton, near where I live, there is St Gregory's church. One of the teachers at the college where I was teaching plays the organ, and our first Christmas in the area, she invited us to the carol service/children's service/ mass. We have been attending every Christmas eve since then. Catherine accompanied us when we attended during the last Christmas that she stayed with us--December 2009. She was very respectful and sang along to the familiar carols. And the two Christmas eves since she died, I have continued attending. The first year I cried a lot; this time I was calmer until they sang about "citizens of heavens above." That reduces me to tears. But when I first walked into the church--I was early and it was nearly empty--and I looked up at the big modernistic statue of Jesus on the cross and I thought, it's so comforting to come hear year after year and find the church standing solid. There may be differences in the liturgy and services, but the foundation remains. That thought has stayed with me, and now I've found another fulfilment in finding St Francis Church.
The man standing next to Father Swami is Joaquim. Joaquim was only 18 or 19 when Pax died, but as the only (?) Indian national living in the community of our co-workers in Bhopal, it fell on him to help with the burial. He and a Greek man named John asked a rickshaw driver for the church, and this is where (we now know!) they brought him. The priest had a little one coffin on hand, a coffin with a cross on the top. This seemed rather incredible, but we now know that at that time, the coffin makers and grave diggers lived right there in the church compound.
They lay Pax in the coffin and the grave was dug. They prayed over him and I think Joaquim also brought flowers. He was so young and so inexperienced. I never knew who had helped with the burial until I posted a notice on the electronic bulletin board of the religious community with whom I used to work. His wife responded. That was maybe a year ago or perhaps even less. Joaquim travelled up from Goa to help us in our search for Pax's grave. He was the only one who could show us where it was, so he has been crucial to our search.
Why didn't I know, you may ask? I will tell you that in another post. I want to finish describing the picture.
Next to Joaquim is the young Father whose name escapes me for the moment. (I will edit this when I have my notebook on hand.) It was his kindness and generosity of spirit, offering us time to take tea and sit down to talk when we arrived in the morning to recommence our search (the previous days had been disheartening, to put it mildly!) and it was from him that we discovered that years ago, yes, they used to bury people next to the church. Later on the main cemetery was enlarged and now it would be unheard of for someone to be buried like this. That's one reason our search was so difficult. Nobody could believe a priest would bury a child in the grounds of a church.
Sitting on the chair, well you can guess who that is. And next to me is the taxi driver. We had a hired car throughout our Bhopal trip and we could not have managed without it. There were two drivers that alternated days. They became involved in the search. Can you imagine how it moved me, on the last day, to be driving past the hospital and the driver mentioning Pax and that was where he was deceased. To have my son remembered, acknowledged, this is so important.
The other men in the picture are staff from the church compound.
Simon was taking pictures.
One very important person missing from this picture is Sandeep, the pastor with a heart of gold, who was our guide and support throughout our stay in Bhopal. I'll write more about Sandeep when we talk about the search, and then the church service on Sunday morning.
There are many things to say about that little ceremony on Saturday afternoon, and how we came to be there, but I'll save it for next time.
This is so so precious Abi . Very deeply sad but precious too
ReplyDeleteAnd such wonderful humans who have enabled you to get to this point.