Page 61 of A Thousand Broken Pieces

There wasn’t any laughter. And zero celebration.

“They rejoice because their loved one is now in heaven. They are free from earthly constraints. They are healed and they are in eternal bliss. The greatest wish for anyone we love is to achieve this.” A lump was quick to form in my throat when Kabir spoke those words. As I looked to the family members, their smiles were wide, and they were pure.

I wondered who they had lost. I wondered who they were to them. Wondered how changed their lives would be without them in it.

“Here,” Kabir said, gesturing all around us, “we celebrate death.” He smiled. “Death is the best lesson in life. Death teaches us tolive, for the short amount of time we are here. Death teaches us to live with all our heart and soul, day by day, minute by treasured minute.”

A man who I assumed was the owner of the shop came out and offered us an unfamiliar sweet treat. Savannah held out her hand. “Thank you,” she said and stared down at that piece of orange candy like it was a turning point in her life. She had hung on to the words Kabir had told us, eyes wide and transfixed on his explanation.

The shop owner handed me a treat too. I stared down at that orange candy, and something within me wanted to grab it and take it. But there was still a voice inside of me that didn’t want me to reach out. It was irrational, I knew it. But it was like, if I did, I would have to admit that there was something good about Cillian dying. My hand balled into a fist, but I forced myself to take it. I nodded at the shop owner in thanks, who reciprocated with a wide smile.

He was celebrating with this family, with us. Death. You could see it in his bright expression that what Kabir had explained to us was firmly in this man’s heart. He was providing an integral part of the celebration to a family who had just sent their loved one to nirvana.

I imagined there was no greater feeling.

I looked up at the sky. It was clear, cloudless. The sun was high, and theheat was rising. The smell of sugar and spices drifted in the breeze. I wanted Cillian to be up there too—happy.

“Varanasi teaches us to let our loved ones go,” Kabir said, and the noise around me faded. As if in slow motion, I watched Kabir, the surrounding hustle and bustle turning to white noise. I felt he looked right to me, like he knew I needed this lesson most. “Here, in Varanasi, we must release the souls of our loved ones from the shackles of our hearts so they can soar. So they can go freely to nirvana without being tied to us here on Earth.”

Savannah sucked in a sharp breath. When I looked to her, her eyes were fixed on me. They reflected the same fear I felt in my heart. I couldn’t let Cillian go. If I did … it would mean he was truly gone.

“As difficult as it is, there’s great freedom in letting go,” Kabir said as he gently finished, then turned to speak to the shop owner and the celebrating family members. Savannah and I remained side by side, trapped in the shimmer of the words Kabir had just spoken.

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Mia said, gathering us all together. “I think the rest of today should be one of reflection.”

“We’re proud of you all,” Leo said and, numb, we walked behind them back to the hotel. Savannah and I held hands like it was the only anchor keeping us both from drifting away. When we arrived back, Lili and Jade took themselves into our group’s private rec room. Travis and Dylan headed back out into the streets, in the direction of the river.

I turned Savannah in my arms and pulled her to my chest. I wasn’t sure who needed the contact more at that moment, me or her. I felt her heart beat in sync with mine—a united rhythm of confusion. Felt her chest rise and fall. It was strange, after holding Cillian, still and unbreathing in my arms, feeling Savannah’s chest rise and fall withlife.It brought me a paramount level of comfort.

To me, there was nothing more haunting than a still chest.

“What do you want to do?” I asked. Savannah rested her cheek on my chest. When she lifted her head, eyes haunted and tired, I couldn’t help but bend down and capture her lips. Every time I kissed her made me fall in love with her even more.

“Let’s walk,” she said. I’d come to know that when Savannah’s anxietywas high, she liked to walk. She struggled to sit still for a while. Taking her hand again, we walked hand in hand back into the streets of Varanasi. We walked in silence, following no firm direction until we arrived at an unfamiliar ghat. “Do you feel comfortable sitting yet, baby?”

Savannah smiled at me, and she stole my breath right from my lungs. She nodded, and we sat down at the picturesque ghat and stared out at the river before us. At the many boats that were taking tourists on tours. We had yet to do that. Mia and Leo had told us that would come at the end of the trip.

“It’s so different,” I said as Savannah rested her head on my bicep. I never wanted her to leave my side. “What Kabir was telling us about how death is viewed here.”

Birds landed on the steps, looking for scraps of food. Savannah lifted her head from my arm so I could see her. Her cheeks were pink from the sun, a light tan on her peach-colored skin from our time under the sun in India. “It’s important,” she said after a few moments of thought. That was Savannah. She never spoke until she had something meaningful to say. It made her words that much more impactful. “To see how other countries, religions, and cultures see death.” She stared out over the river Ganges, at the people running their hands through the water from the side of boats, catching a brief moment of soul purification.

Savannah shook her head. “It makes you feel less alone, I suppose. To see so many mourners in one isolated place.”

I folded my arms and rested them on my bent knees. I laid my cheek on my arms and stared at Savannah, hidden words from the depth of my soul craving to be freed. She turned when she felt my heavy gaze on her, clearly feeling I needed her right now.

“Ican’tlet him go,” I whispered, bones aching with how much that admission cost me.

Savannah’s face softened and she leaned in and kissed me. It was light and gentle, just like her. She linked her arm through mine and said, “When Poppy was diagnosed, I was filled with nothing but dread. I would wake up every day with a pit in my stomach, because I knew we were one more day closer to losing her. I mourned every month that passed, because it was onemore month I wouldn’t get back with the sister who I could see was fading before my very eyes.”

Savannah released a choked, single light laugh that was a knife to my heart. “I took out every book I could find in the library about cancer treatments. I was young but truly believed that if I could just find something we hadn’t yet tried, it would save her.” Savannah’s accent was a fraction stronger as she said those words. Unbarred and filled with passion. I could just imagine her, staying up all night looking for a solution. “It was how I coped, I suppose. I was book smart. I was good at science. I felt I could help her. Even up until her very last days, long after Poppy had accepted her fate, I was still trying desperately to find a cure.”

Savannah watched a young woman walk down the steps of the ghat and sit on a lower level. She had a picture of someone in her hand that she then raised and placed over her heart. I got the impression she had lost them too.

Another person just like us.

Savannah faced me again. Meeting my eyes, she rasped, “I used to worry about losing her. Now I’m terrified of forgetting her.” Blood ran from my face. Savannah had put words to the feelings that gnawed away at me daily. I’d long wondered if I held on to this grief and anger like I had because then I wouldn’t have to truly say goodbye to Cillian. Because I was holding on to him, he would never truly leave my life.

I focused on the rippling river before us and said, “Every time I try to picture a world where Cillian is gone, and I’ve moved on, it doesn’t feel right.” I shook my head. “After Cillian died, friends and relatives were around more, were engulfing us all in support—dropping off food, sitting with us while we fell apart. Then months passed, and those people went back to their lives, to their own problems and families—as they should. But we were still there, frozen in the sadness, unable to move on from grief’s asphalt grip that had cemented us into the ground.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “We watched life resume around us, but still, we couldn’t move.”

---