Translated By Tony Qin
In my many years of offering end-of-life care, one case in particular has remained unforgettable. It unfolded entirely through long-distance video calls.
Chen Yuan and his family were devout Buddhists from the International Buddhist Temple, and I had known them well for many years. One day, he came to the temple with a grave expression. He told me that his elder sister, Chen Fen, who lived far away in the United States, had been diagnosed with terminal cancer at only forty years of age. After a long course of treatment, her condition had still not improved. She had now returned home from the hospital and, in the final stage of her life, wished to spend her remaining time with those closest to he .
I asked about her physical and emotional state.
Chen Yuan said, “My sister is suffering greatly in body, but the anguish in her heart is even heavier… We do not know how to comfort her, so we came to ask for your help, Venerable. ”
He then placed a long-distance video call. On the screen, Chen Fen lay in bed, an IV attached to her arm. Her face was pale and drawn, and she looked deeply exhausted. Yet when she saw a monastic appear before her, a faint smile rose on her face. In a soft voice, she said, “Venerable, I really don’t want to go yet. Heaven gave me such a good family—a loving husband and a well-behaved son. Why must I be taken away so soon? ”
I gently said to her, “Everything in life is impermanent. It is not arranged by gods or by Heaven, but unfolds through the karmic causes and conditions formed in past lives. What we encounter in this life is the ripening of causes planted over countless lifetimes.”
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. In a low voice, she said, “I understand these principles… But my son is only nine years old. How can I bear to leave him behind? My mother is already seventy. She will have to live all alone. I feel that I am a terrible daughter… ”
I said, “Do not be so quick to blame yourself. Try looking at it from another angle. The fact that you were able to come together with them in this life is itself the result of precious karmic affinities. To be grateful for this bond is better than clinging to the sorrow that it cannot last longer.
“Your son is still young, but you have already given him love and care. That motherly love will leave a deep mark upon his life. Your mother may be elderly, but she too is a Buddhist and understands that impermanence is the natural law of life. If you can be reborn in the Pure Land, that will be the greatest comfort and filial devotion you can offer her.”
I asked whether she still had the strength to recite mantras or sutras.
She gently shook her head. “I have no energy. My whole mind feels dazed and clouded…”
Hearing this, Chen Yuan suggested that a Kṣitigarbha Sutra Dharma assembly be held at the temple on his sister’s behalf, so that through the blessings of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas and the collective vows of the assembly, she might find peace and move beyond suffering. Everyone agreed.
Two days later, before the Dharma assembly began, I spoke with her again by video call. She said, “Venerable, I am deeply grateful for your guidance. My heart feels much better now. But I still cannot stop worrying about my son… I am afraid that when he grows up, he will no longer remember me. I am also afraid that he will not learn Buddhism and may not become a good person in the future…”
I said to her, “Your love has already entered the deepest part of his life. Even as the years pass, he will not forget the loving mother who cared for him. Moreover, you once brought him to bow before the Buddha and helped plant wholesome roots in his heart. Those seeds may not sprout immediately, but when the right causes and conditions mature in the future, he will surely walk upon the right path.
“What you urgently need to do now is not worry about the future, but make full use of this present moment. Focus single-mindedly on reciting the Buddha’s name, aspire to be reborn in the Pure Land, and transform your compassion and vows into a radiant force that will continue to guide him.”
Tears streamed down her face. She nodded and said, “All right… I will do my best.”
During the Dharma assembly that day, I felt as though she, though far away, was participating with us at the same moment. Her sincerity and concentration seemed to cross the distance between us.
Several days later, Chen Yuan came to the temple and said that his sister wished to bid me farewell. On the other end of the video call, Chen Fen’s breath was faint, yet her expression was peaceful. Slowly, she said, “Venerable, I have let go of everything now. I am leaving… I am going to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss… Thank you.”
Early the next morning, Chen Yuan sent word that his sister had passed away peacefully during the night.
Postscript
All relationships in this world—whether familial love, friendship, or romantic love—are like clouds gathering and dispersing. When karmic affinities are exhausted, separation comes. To spend several decades of this brief life together with those we cherish is already a wholesome bond cultivated over countless lifetimes.
When the time comes to part, what is needed is not clinging and resistance, but compassion and release.
The Dharma teaches us to take impermanence as our teacher. From the Buddhist perspective, death is not an ending, but the beginning of the next stage of a sentient being’s journey. If one can rely on the power of the Buddha’s vows and be reborn in the Western Pure Land, then even a life that was brief has not been lived in vain.
May all those who feel lost and afraid at the end of life find peace through the Dharma and let go with ease. May all loved ones who remain in this world elevate love into blessing, transform tears into the strength of supportive recitation, and thereby bring one another into still deeper wholesome affinities.
