15 Pitch Darkness and Blinding Light

Pitch Darkness and Blinding Light

Cael

Varanasi, India

T HERE WERE PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. E ACH NARROW, WINDING ALLEY WE walked down was gradually filling with bigger crowds. The smell of spices and tea permeated the air from the vendors who were selling food and drink on the sidewalks as we passed.

Everything was out in the open here in Varanasi. It was almost overwhelming to the senses, and the city was filled with so many different things to see, to absorb, my mind spun. There were barbers cutting off people's hair for religious purposes. Pictures of brightly painted Hindu gods decorating the city. It was bustling and loud and filled with what can only be described as life .

Savannah held on to me tightly as we wove through the alleyways, following Mia and Leo as we approached the river that Varanasi was famous for. The river Ganges. Our guide, Kabir, had already told us of this river. In Hindu culture it was believed to have healing properties. The pilgrims who made the once-in-a-lifetime trip to the Ganges would immerse themselves into the river and let the sacred water wash away their impurities and sins.

The water flowing through a person's hands was also a way to remember their ancestors, the dead. My chest had pulled tightly when Kabir had mentioned that.

It was early morning, the sun barely in the sky, and we arrived at the Assi Ghat—a wide stretch of steps on the Ganges's riverbank. As soon as we reached the top of the ghat, I came to a stop at the scene before me. Laughter rose out of the mass of people congregated in the river. People of all ages, from old people down to infants. They scooped up the water, pouring it over them, letting it fall back into the river.

A sense of awe filled me. Just hearing their laughter, them living in this moment, believing this water was remitting their sins, was a memory I knew would never fade.

"This moment, for many of them," Kabir said, "will be one of the greatest highlights of their lives." Kabir smiled down at the children splashing, and I pulled Savannah close to me.

There was something about this place that seemed to calm me. Kabir had explained when we'd arrived that this city was known as the place where life met death. A highly spiritual place, sacred to those of the Hindu religion. And you could feel it. You could feel happiness from pilgrims and tourists alike, but you could also feel the heavy cloak of death hovering by. Like every stage of life swirled into a huge mixing pot, bubbling around you.

I looked up and turned to view the ghats at the very bottom of the eighty-something row that sat on the riverside. Those were ghats of cremation. Twenty-four hours a day, bodies of the dead were burned here. Their ashes placed into the Ganges to purify them in death. Kabir had explained to us that it was a Hindu belief that if a person died here in Varanasi, or their body was brought here to be cremated, they would break free from the cycle of reincarnation and reach nirvana.

Because of this, the city was always busy, loved ones wanting to give their deceased family members the greatest gift of all—the eternal gift of paradise.

I'd gazed up those ghats in the distance and felt a pang in my chest. I would love to have given Cillian something like this. Would love to have given him a piece of heaven after the hell he'd so secretly lived in.

The cremation gnats never stopped. Ash from their chimneys floated into the air. Kabir had told us that Varanasi was a city where death and life were intertwined stages of being. Not hidden behind doors and kept private but lived out in the public for everyone to see.

Savannah had been quiet since we got here. As had most of the group. It was a heady place to see. Could be confusing to those of us not of this faith and culture. But we were determined to learn. Leo and Mia had said this section of the trip was about facing mortality. Goa and the Agra District had slowly eased us into that notion—systematic desensitization, Mia and Leo had called it. Varanasi was us plunging straight in. And we felt it. Felt the discomfort of death shadowing our every move.

We sat down on the steps and watched the people within the river. They were elated.

"It's so beautiful to see," Savannah said, dressed in loose pink pants and a flowing white shirt. "To see people of such a steadfast faith experiencing this moment." She smiled. It was the smile I'd come to know as her Poppy smile. When she was remembering her sister fondly. It had been emerging more frequently since our time in the Agra District. She also had a desolate look I'd come to know too, when her thoughts of her sister weren't quite as easy. I was happy to see this smile becoming less frequent.

"Poppy was such a believer in a higher being." She pointed at a woman who had fully immersed herself in the river, delicately, showing the water her utmost respect. "It's like a baptism."

Savannah looked at me then. "Even when you don't share that belief, how can you watch a scene like this and not feel a sense of calm and peace? How can you not be swept away by the joy and serenity this ritual gives these people? A monumental moment in their spiritual journey. It's incredible," Savannah said.

There was an older man off to the right, alone, praying. A young couple holding hands as they immersed themselves in the water together. My heart missed a beat when they emerged and looked to each other with such love it was almost too much to witness.

"I've never seen anything like this," I said and continued watching. We watched until the sun rose higher in the sky and the ghat we were sitting at became too busy to stay.

As we made our way back toward our hotel, we stopped when a procession of people came walking through. My heart sank when I realized what I was witnessing. Kabir had told us to be prepared.

A family was carrying their deceased family member on a bed of sorts. The deceased was wrapped in white linen and being carried toward the direction of the cremation ghat. I was so shocked seeing this up close that my body locked up.

Flashbacks of holding Cillian in my arms grabbed hold of me and refused to let go. I felt my chest getting tighter and my heart beating out of sync. It was only made worse when Savannah's hand flinched in my own, and when I looked down at her, she rapidly descended into panic. Her face had blanched, and her breathing was choppy.

"Sav," I said, my voice raspy. I was trying to be there for her, but I couldn't rid my mind of Cill. I felt like if I looked down, I'd see him in my arms … gone.

Savannah stumbled, her anxiety taking full control. Her frightened face was enough to get me moving. I stepped in front of her, blocking her view. The procession faded from sight, and I cupped Savannah's cheeks and said, "Focus on me, Peaches. Look at me." She did. And in the middle of the alleyway with people pushing past, I said, "Breathe in for eight." My voice was weakened by my own thoughts, but I had to get her through this. She had been doing so well. But that was grief. One trigger, and all we had fought for seemed to dissipate to dust and we were thrust back several steps.

"Hold for four. Feel and hear your heartbeat slowing." Savannah did what I said, only for her attention to drift to the alley again. Her eyes widened, and her breathing became staccato. I turned to see what she was looking at, only to see another family procession carrying their loved one to their cremation.

A strained cry slipped from Savannah's lips. Mia quickly came beside us. She took one look at Savannah and said, "This way. We need to get her back to the hotel."

Savannah curled into me so tightly, I was almost carrying her. She seemed so small in my arms. She kept her head hidden in my chest, and I shielded her from any more triggers. We passed four more processions before we even got to our hotel.

As we gathered in the foyer, Mia and Leo quickly took us all into the conference room that we were using for our group sessions. We had one in every hotel we stayed at.

Leo shut the door behind us, and it was the first time I had even looked at the others. Everyone was shaken and shocked.

"I haven't seen a dead body before," Dylan said shakily.

Travis was white as a ghost. He had. He had seen several. Dylan threw his arm around Travis. Jade and Lili followed Leo across the room to get some tea that the hotel had left out for us.

Kabir had come back with us too. He went with Leo and the girls. I held Savannah tightly in my arms. Her eyes were bloodshot, and tears wet her cheeks. I wiped the damp away and asked, "Are you doing better, baby?"

She nodded her head but then shook it no. "It reminded me of Poppy," she said, her hands trembling in mine. She released a self-deprecating laugh. "I want to be a doctor for children with cancer and I can't even face seeing a person who has passed." She shook her head again. "Maybe I can't do it after all."

Mia appeared beside us. "It was your first time since your sister." Mia looked across the room to Leo, who was walking back toward us with a tray of tea. "Let's sit down," Mia said. "We should discuss what we've seen and how it made us feel." She then spoke to Kabir. "And it would be helpful if you could tell the group more about Varanasi and its relationship with death? It may help us all process it."

Kabir nodded. "I would be honored."

We sat down and Leo handed us all hot tea. I gulped it down immediately, trying to let the heat warm the iciness in my bones.

"How did seeing those processions make you feel?" Mia said and cast her eyes around the group.

"Sad," Lili said. "Seeing their family members walking behind them. It made me really sad. It took me back to hearing about my mom and dad."

"It made me remember that day …" Travis said. His head was bowed. "Not the good parts, the memories I had of my friends, but the bad part. Seeing them all after …"

Travis sniffed back his tears. Dylan placed his hand on his shoulder. I looked to Sav; her head was down, and her breathing was calmer but still shallow. I felt trapped in my personal hell too. The hell of seeing Cill in the car, of feeling him, unmoving, in my arms.

When no one else offered to speak, Leo said, "Knowing about death, grieving for a loved one, and even seeing them after death can be traumatic." The truth of those words was evident in all our slumped frames. "We remember that time above anything else, have it burned into our memories. When we think of the person we loved, most people conjure that image first." Leo sighed. "But the truth is, death is all around us. We see it every day, though we may not realize it. We wander through trees in the fall, the leaves dying as they turn red, yellow, and brown and drift to the ground. We see animals pass, we display flowers in our homes, and dispense of them when they die.

"We feel it harder and deeper when it's a loved one, of course. But death won't be a onetime experience for any of us. We will experience grief several times in our lifetimes. See it in nature all year round, year after year. It will never go away."

Mia nodded to Kabir. He sat forward in his seat. "It is my understanding that in the Western world, death is something that happens behind closed doors. It is more of a private affair." He wasn't judging; I could tell by his tone. "Here, especially in Varanasi, we celebrate all parts of life. Even death. For us, it is just another part of our journey we take as people. We live life in the open, and that means we see death in the open too."

Goose bumps broke out over my body. Savannah's head had lifted, and she was hanging on every word that Kabir said.

He pointed to Mia and Leo. "The purpose of bringing you all here, this city where life meets death, is to show you that death doesn't have to be dreaded but can be seen as a celebratory rite of passage. And it can be treasured and sacred too.

"In the space of a couple of hours, we saw pilgrims bathing joyfully in the Ganges, washing away their sins. Then we saw loved ones taking their family members to be cremated and sent to heaven. We believe dying here breaks the cycle of reincarnation and sends our loved ones' souls straight to nirvana. To us, that is something to be celebrated, not mourned."

"We all believe different things about the afterlife," Mia said. "Varanasi teaches us to embrace death in the same way we embrace life. I know that may seem like a difficult concept to accept. But this section of the trip is about facing our mortality. There is no place better to see that than this vibrant, magical city."

"If I could, I would like to show you something," Kabir said and checked with us all silently if that was okay. "It will mean going back outside."

Savannah straightened, bracing herself against her attack of grief, but then took a deep inhale and nodded. I was so proud of the strength that was building within her. I could see Savannah climbing the mountain out of grief higher and higher, day by day. She was reaching the top. She was a damn revelation. She was petite in stature, but her strength was that of a Titan.

One thing was becoming clear—she was stronger than me.

"Okay?" I said, when we rose to our feet.

"Okay," she said and squeezed my hand. Only once. "You?"

"Okay," I hushed out. I was anything but. Mia and Leo hadn't failed us yet. So, I would trust them. It had taken me many weeks so far to give over some control to them, but I could see what they were doing. And it had helped.

We followed Kabir back out into the maze of alleyways. In just ten minutes we saw another two processions. I held my breath when I saw them—I held Savannah too.

She was trembling, but she kept her chin up. And as the family passed, she bowed her head in respect and tears sprang to my eyes. I felt like I'd learned more about life from Savannah in a handful of weeks than any school in my life.

I bowed my head too. I hoped they had passed well. That it was peaceful and that nirvana truly did await them. What an image, to arrive at a place free of pain and judgment, one filled with love in all its forms. No sadness or troubles. Just peace and happiness. That thought made me feel warm with hope. Hope that it was true.

The sound of laughter came from around the corner, taking me from my thoughts. Kabir led us in that direction. When we arrived, it was to a kind of bakery/sweet shop. There were people dressed in white, laughing and eating, celebrating .

Kabir gestured his hand to the people. "They have just seen their loved one cremated." I frowned, unable to fathom that. I thought back to Cillian's funeral, then his wake. I barely remembered it. There was lots of crying from my mom and dad. From my other family. There were lots of strained silences, numbness, and dread.

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 to live , 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 the heat 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 with life. 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 anxiety was 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.

"I can't let 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 one more 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."

Savannah shuffled closer to me, resting her head on my bicep, and I could breathe a little easier. "I feel like I still haven't moved. I'm still in that asphalt, watching the world exist around me, while I don't live any of it."

"What about your parents?" Savannah's voice was careful. It was obvious I had pushed them away. A flicker of shame cut through me. Leo talked to them. Not me, and guilt assaulted me. They had lost one son. I knew they were just trying to help, but I'd just been so angry. I'd been taking it all out on them for so long.

"They've tried to move on," I said. I dropped my head to rest on the top of Savannah's. "They've returned to work. Christ, Savannah, they are trying ." My voice stuttered when I said, "I've been a terrible son."

Savannah's head whipped up, determination in her eyes. "You have not!" she said firmly. "You are hurting, Cael. You are grieving. You are struggling. That does not make you bad ."

I couldn't help but smile through the pain at my pint-size girl coming to my defense. And she did it with the force of a hurricane.

"What?" she asked, questioning my smile.

I cupped her cheek, heart swelling as she nuzzled into it, eyes closing at the touch. She was so soft under me yet had the tenacity of a shark. I didn't think she saw that in herself. She thought herself weak. I had never met anyone stronger.

"You're carrying me through," I said quietly, almost nonexistent.

Savannah tilted her head to me, and the love I saw in her eyes would stay with me for a lifetime. I wasn't sure anyone had ever seen me the way Savannah saw me. I'd never loved anyone like the way I was so consumed by her and everything she was and stood for.

Savannah had spent months and months searching for a miracle to save her sister. I had been given one when I'd least expected it. I had been given her. Maybe the universe knew we needed each other in order to survive. Maybe it knew that we had both lost and were hurting, so it sent our souls' other halves to make us somehow more whole.

I was sure Savannah would tell me it was Cillian and Poppy conspiring from their place among the stars.

"I love you," I said and kissed her again. How could I not?

Savannah kissed me back. "I love you too, Cael Woods." Savannah sat closer still. It wasn't close enough. I reached over and lifted her until she sat on my lap. She laughed and it was like hearing happiness. Then I kissed her. I kissed her until my lips felt bruised and we'd run out of breath.

When we finally broke away, a flush had coated Savannah's smooth cheeks—it was my new favorite color. Her smile faded and she stroked her finger down my jaw. "Your grief does not make you a bad person. The way you process it does not make you weak. I need you to know that."

"Okay," I said and held on tightly to her waist. Her sincerity made me want to believe that, so bad.

Savannah stared down at the woman who was still at the bottom of the stairs, her loved one's picture held tightly to her chest. She was lost in prayer. A place like Varanasi held a spirituality that was almost tangible. Magical, even.

"There is fear in grief," Savannah suddenly said. I refocused on my girl. "For me, it's a fear that Poppy didn't move on to a better place like she believed. Fear that the world is too foreign with her gone. And my biggest fear …" Savannah's voice wobbled. "My biggest fear is that I somehow become happy without her here." She turned to meet my eyes. "Because how could I ever be happy again with her gone?"

Savannah swallowed, then pressed her forehead to mine. "But I have found you and you make me so immeasurably happy." A tear fell down her cheek, passing onto mine like they shared the same track. "I have found happiness with you. Without Poppy being in my life. What I once thought was impossible. It's making me question everything I ever let myself believe." She moved back and blinked. "And the worst part is, she would have loved you, and she'll never get to meet you."

I hated seeing Savannah cry. It destroyed me. But I felt a little more pain lift in my heart when I thought of Cillian. "Cill would have loved you too," I whispered, the pain of that like a dagger to the heart.

But the smile that remark inspired in Savannah was like finally seeing the sun after an eternity of darkness.

Savannah wrapped her arms around me and laid her cheek against my chest. I held her right back, even closer when I realized she had drifted to sleep. I thought of the first time I'd met her in the airport. I had felt something for her even then, even through my heavy shield of anger. Some spark of recognition—my soul waking from a long slumbering sleep.

I kissed the top of Savannah's head as I relayed every part of our trip so far. The Lake District, the endless climbing, the group sessions, the disastrous one-on-ones, but Savannah being there for me through it all, a complete stranger. Norway, the northern lights, the beach, the kiss we'd first shared. And Savannah, day by day, merging her heart with mine. Souls melting until we were one blurred-out form. Holding one another up when the other was falling.

The scent of cherry and almond cut through the smells of sugar and spices. Savannah's soft hair pressed against my cheek as I laid my head on the top of hers. She moved in my arms and blinked as she took in the lowering sun. "I fell asleep?" she said, tired.

"Just for a while," I said, and she turned her face to me. "Shall we go back?" Truth was, I could have stayed that way with her forever. Safe in my arms. Safe from harm.

Savannah smiled and nodded.

We returned to the hotel. Night fell and I went to bed. Just as I was about to sleep, my phone lit up with a message.

DAD:

Hope you're enjoying India, son. Leo said you're doing well. We love you.

My heart took off in a sprint. I thought back to the ghat this afternoon and my confession to Savannah that I was a bad son. My hands shook as I read that message over and over again until my eyes blurred. At the many unanswered messages they had sent in the numerous weeks that I had been away. They'd never stopped trying. In reality, my parents had never given up on me. I'd pushed them away, taken out my anger on them and made their lives hell. Yet they were still here, trying. Trying so hard for me.

Unlocking my phone, I texted back:

ME:

I love you both too. Miss you.

Dad's response was immediate.

DAD:

Cael. Son. Thank you for texting back. We want to speak to you more than anything. Hear your voice. But we'll wait until you're ready. We're just so happy you've responded. We miss you so much and are so proud of you. Keep going, Cael. We love you. Please keep talking to us.

ME:

I will. I promise. I'm trying, Dad. I love you.

I couldn't have called them if I wanted to. My throat was thick with emotion, and my dad's message blurred as I read it repeatedly, tears filling my eyes.

They didn't hate me. The impact that had on me was total.

I put my phone down, the sprint in my heart slowing to a normal pace. I wiped my eyes, then waited for the usual ache that came with trying to sleep. Nighttimes were always the worst for me. Maybe because that was when Cillian had passed. In the dark. Maybe because nighttime gave me time to overthink. But tonight, the ache was reduced.

And, with a slightly lighter heart, I slept better than I had in a while.