My Mother

Eulogy to Mom My dear mother passed onto a better place on February 18, 2003. She was 71 years old. Surviving her are her four children, Joseph, Dennis, Kathie, myself, her eldest son, and her granchildren; Samantha, Jared and Erin.
She was a good and unselfish person with many qualities that are mentioned in our scriptures as being devotional and sattvic (mode of goodness). She had a sagacious intellect that could see through the artificiality of mundane glitter and glamour. All her life she maintained high moral standards for herself and as an example for her children.
In 1950 She was crowned Cinderella in The Chronicle's Cinderella contest at the San Francisco Emporium at the age of eighteen. She could have persued a lifestyle that would attract adoration, fame and money, but that was not in her nature. I was in her womb at the time of this contest, probably wondering what all the commotion was about outside.
Her pictures were in the papers; she won $500 (a lot of money in those days); an autographed drawing by Walt Disney himself which he used in making the movie "Cinderella". It was then showing at the Golden Gate Theater; an RCA record player; an album of 45 r.p.m. "Cinderella" records; and the coronation robe, a long white dress spangled in gold.
The audience cheered and a string orchestra played soft strains as my mom was being crowned. You would think an experience like this would go to her head and make her want more of this kind of attention. The adoration, the fame, the money, the excitement of it all!
Nothing could be further from her own truth. One of the reasons they nominated her besides for her physical beauty, was for "the unselfish way she helped her sick mother, putting aside all thoughts of herself " as stated in the Chronicle. She said she would use the money to pay her mother's hospital bills, which she did. She had strong morals which just came naturally to her.
As time would prove, she would carry these wonderful selfless qualities throughout her life. But as she became more and more disenchanted with this material world, she neglected her own health and yet she continued to always be concerned for our health and well-being.
Three years after I was born, my father and mother separated, and my mother struggled on her own to raise me. She worked at a simple secretarial typing job.
She remarried when I was about six, and had three more children with her new husband. He raised us as Catholics and we seemed quite relatively happy in those days when an eight year old child could walk without fear for a couple of miles to school each day. We were quite oblivious to anything other than the dreams of the typical middle class American family. That was destined to change in the years to come.
When I was fifteen, my step-father, the father of my brothers and sister died in a car accident. I loved him as my own father also, because he had always been good to me, taught me many things and treated me equally as his son. Now the pressure of family responsibility was doubled for mom, and this also forced me to learn early in life a few things about responsibility, being the oldest son.
It was a devastating and emotional time. My mother decided it was time for us to move on, so we moved out of California and into Oregon where we lived in Lake Oswego where my mom's sister and my cousins lived. By the young age of 34 my mother felt she had learned her lesson and never remarried.
I remember on one clear night she asked the question as if to herself, while we were looking up at the stars from our balcony, "Do you ever sense that with the vastness of God's huge universe, there must be something more we should know, some higher realization?" I sensed she was having a revelation of some kind and it was very encouraging to me that she opened up her mind like this. I think it was also the beginning of my own search for answers to life's questions, especially the questions that were constantly resurfacing in my mind, like " why do we die, what is the goal of life, and what comes after death?"

As a protester of the Vietnam war I sometimes gathered with other protesters to watch real footage of the horrific devastation of war, the napalm, the bombings on simple villagers, the women, children and elderly running for their lives. I could see I was being directed by these sequences of events in my life.... the death in our family and also our loss of two beloved pet dogs over the years to fast drivers on these never-ending asphault roads paved with progressive intentions and questionable technology.
My mother was also getting fed up with the material world at the same time. She seemed to be able to see right through the false happiness and delusions of other people, but at the same time she was aware of one of her own harmful delusions.... smoking.
At least she wasn't in denial, and knew she was addicted, but she just settled with the fact that only God is perfect. She knew the small pleasures she found in this world were temporary and that the next world held much more promise for her than this one. She knew her bible well. Meanwhile, my own hunger for knowledge lead me towards the study of many different scriptures. I had tried to mingle with various groups such as the Baba Ramdas group, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi group, and other less known yoga groups, but there were still unanswered questions and unfulfilled needs.
At age eighteen I came home discouraged from a trip to Arizona where my search for an advertised Tibetan monastery ended at a country dwelling for rich hippies who could afford to live with their guru. It wasn't what I was looking for. My mother sensed I was not happy with the results of my spiritual searches, and she talked to me often out of concern for my state of mind. She was always ready to help.
One sunny day I woke up and went to the dining table and noticed the newspaper was open to a big picture of a monk in robes on a downtown street in Portland. The article mentioned that the Hare Krishnas had just opened a temple on the eastern side of Portland. I had never heard of the Hare Krishnas before. This was in 1970.
Mom walked in and asked me what I thought about this group and said she left the paper open on purpose so I would read about the Hare Krishnas. So I said that it looks very interesting. She knew that I had studied everything from Christianity to Shamanisn to Tibetan Yoga, but this was the first time she ever recommended a particular spiritual path to me. She said "why don't you go see these people?" I asked, "how should I get there? You're driving the car to work. All I have is my bike." She said, "then ride your bike there! It's a beautiful day." It was fifteen miles away.
So I said "OK! why not. " So off I went down the dusty road until I saw a scenic looking graveyard about halfway to the temple. I stopped and rested under a tree and did my Tibetan meditation for awhile. Mom started my quest back on that balcony at home, when we looked at the stars! And maybe she just set me on course for that higher realization. I thought, maybe these Hare Krishna's have what I'm looking for!
So I got up and rode my bike to the temple, I walked up to the porch, noticed the front door was open and a delightful fragrance was coming from within. It was incense mingled with the aroma of spices in the food being cooked by either Krishna Vilasini devi dasi or Narada Muni das. I'm not sure, but they may remember. Locan dasa was the temple president. But the first devotee I met was Bhakta Steve.
In his very mellow and transcendental manner he explained the basic meaning of Krishna Consciousness to me. I will never forget his explanation of the soul's purpose in this world, and why we must accept the physical death of the body as being as natural as it is to be born. He explained the soul's separate existance from the physical body and it's eternal relationship with Krishna. He referred to the Hare Krishna's own bible, the 5000 year old Bhagavad Gita. It made me feel immediately satisfied that I had found a group with some real substantial knowledge and ancient scripture to back it up.
My mother was surprised when I called her that night to tell her I was staying at the temple and shaving my hair off (and there was lots of it) the next day. She expressed her happiness for me but also mentioned that I should also come and see her sometimes. Over the years as I traveled and help spread the knowledge of Krishna Consciousness, I sent lots of books and letters to Mom, and occasionally stopped by to see her.
I could see her health deteriorating more and more. She was gradually developing the detachment of a sannyasi (renounced order of life). She had no interest in getting married again. She remained single while working hard and raising my brothers and sister. She became more and more reclusive throughout the years, always having faith in God and remaining firm in her own realizations. I believe it was her one habit of smoking that ruined her health and eventually took her from us at the age of 71.
As it has become more revealed, the chemicals they were putting in their cigarettes all these years were purposely added to induce addiction. So in my book, I hold them accountable for my mother's death, and also the death of millions. As the Christians say, their judgement day is coming, and as we say... they will be brought to the court of Yamaraj (the lord of death) for judgement..
In her spare time she would read philosophical books, the bible, the Bhagavad Gita and Srimad Bhagavatams I sent her, and other books which delved into the mysteries of life. She was searching for answers and developing her awareness that there is a higher purpose to our lives, and possibly a more viable spiritual path to take.
As years passed on and I had moved around from temple to temple, New York, West Virginia, California, England, India, and finally to Canada, I was always in contact with my mother and checking on her situation.
When I married and moved to British Columbia, Canada in 1983, I was able to settle down and have more time to visit my mother in Oregon. I was struck by the effects that time and ill health had on her. She was hunched over, and needed a cane to walk. She had constant complaints about her back and lungs.
She suspected that the medication that doctors gave her was doing more harm than good. Her body was deteriorating fast, but her love for God and her children and grandchildren, and her love for reading scripture helped preserve her long enough to see my last painting "The Swing Pastime- Julan Leela". I had brought it to her just about a month before she passed away and these were her words in one of her last emails to me:
" The more I look at this painting the more beautiful it becomes. I think it is the most beautiful one you have done (of those I've seen). Some people who have seen it here like it better than the "All Attractive Couple", although they love that one too. There is no end to the beautiful detail to be looked at. The stone stairs make me want to walk up there and see what's there. The water flowing under the bridge makes me want to follow it and see what's beyond the bridge. I think it is a masterpiece. You did a good job on the Certificate too. You're really getting clever in your old age."
My guru, Srila Prabhupada would sometimes explain that if one simply appreciates something in relation to Krishna, they are already on the spiritual path of Bhakti yoga. He said, " This appreciation is called sraddha, shraddhadhanasya." "Simply appreciation is giving a touch of spiritual life. It is so nice. Sraddha. So development of spiritual life means development of this appreciation." 19/08/72 "Those who are advanced transcendentalists, they'll appreciate, "Oh how nicely they are doing, how nicely." 10/06/69 My mother was truly a transcendentalist in the sense that she always taught me to think for myself, to rise above life's problems with spiritual faith in God, to seek wisdom beyond the academic and institutionalized norms, and she always encouraged me in the transcendental path of bhakti yoga that I had chosen. She was always supportive of her children's and grandchildren's chosen paths.

I owe my mother three times over, first for safely bringing me into this world in 1950 at the same time that my guru, His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami was taking vanaprastha (retiring) and went to Vrindavan to study and write in Radha Damodar temple. Second for raising my brothers, sister and myself with love and care to the best of her ability, and third, for her being the first one to direct me to Krishna Consciousness by making me ride my bike fifteen miles to the temple.
So this is my tribute to my mother and this is my offering to Their Lordships Sri Sri Radha and Krishna, Srila Prabhupada, and Jesus Christ, Who each guided my mother throughout these tough years. Knowing that They are all-knowing and all-compassionate, I pray They will bless my mother and give her a special place in the spiritual sky for her austerities, spiritual strength and encouragement to her children while in this world, where we still reside, but also temporarily. We will never forget you and always love you mom.
- your son, Vishnudas Back to 'About the Artist'