THE SCULPTOR’S TOUCH

Grief, Healing and the Heart That Remains

“We are like blocks of stone out of which the Sculptor carves the form of man. And the blows of His chisel, which hurt us so much, are what make us perfect.”

It’s almost past midnight and I was scrolling through my Facebook and this popped up as ‘memories to look back on today’. 

I first shared the above quote 15 years ago. At the time, it was already 2 years and I was still grieving over someone close to me and my family. Even then, I felt something deep; life’s losses carve us, sometimes painfully but they also teach us how to become whole in new ways.

“Life’s chisels may hurt, but they also reveal the heart that remains.”

Early Grief - The First Wounds

My journey with loss began very early. I lost my father in the late 1970s and a couple of years later, my second sibling passed away. I remember the quiet rooms and the heaviness that seemed to linger in every corner. My sister grieved deeply for our father and that sorrow became a quiet current in our family life.

In the late 1990s, my oldest sister succumbed to gallbladder cancer. 

Over the years, I also lost close cousins, my mother’s sisters and other dear relatives. Each departure felt like a chisel strike, reshaping my heart, sometimes in pieces.

Yet even then, life offered small sparks;

• the laughter of nephews and nieces playing in the garden 
• the morning sunlight spilling onto the kitchen floor

“Even in the shadow of loss, small sparks of life, a laugh, a ray of sunlight - they all remind us we are still here.”

These small moments whispered, that life still held beauty, even amid sorrow.

Major Blows - Life’s Crucibles

In 2015, life delivered a blow I was unprepared for; losing another sister of mine, a Consultant Surgeon, the breadwinner of our family. 

I remember sitting with my mom, holding her hand, feeling the warmth of her fingers trembling slightly, realizing that our roles had shifted. 

My mother and I were suddenly thrust into a new reality, leaning on each other while holding the rest of the family together.

At that time, I wasn’t sure whether to fully grieve or to focus on caring for my mom. The heartbreak was unimaginable. But slowly, we found our rhythm; her leaning on me, me leaning on her, supporting each other as we navigated loss and responsibility together.

Even in those hard days, small joys remained:

• shared cup of tea in the quiet morning
• joke that made us laugh despite tears
• watching the sun paint the walls golden in late afternoons

“Love persists even when hearts ache; it anchors us in the quiet moments between sorrow and hope.”

These moments became our fragile yet steady anchors.

The Long Journey - Growth Through Practice

The following decade was deeply intertwined with my mother. 

Together, we navigated the ongoing ups and downs of life, the quiet griefs and the daily joys. 

I began exploring healing through yoga and meditation, studying the art of presence and reflection.

Even small moments were powerful:

• the sun streaming through the window while we drank tea
• the soft scent of jasmine as my mom sat next to me; her favourite perfume 
• the gentle rustle of leaves during a walk

Sometimes, it was simply the sound of her soft laughter at a small joke or the quiet smile she shared that reminded me how love persists even when hearts ache. 

The Ultimate Blow - Losing My Mother

Early January last year (7 January 2025), my mother’s life journey came to an end. 

I can still remember the quiet of the hospital room, the faint scent of jasmine as I leaned to hug her and the stillness that felt both heavy and sacred. 

The pain was profound. Losing the woman who carried me, nurtured me and shaped my earliest understanding of love.

Even in this grief, I discovered an inner steadiness I didn’t fully recognize before. 

The decades of losses, the practices, the mindfulness, the love I nurtured - all of it supported me. I could grieve fully, while still moving forward with life…moving with honor and presence.

Healing Through Practice – Vipassana Meditation

After my mother’s passing, I sought deeper ways to hold and process my grief.

Vipassana meditation, in particular, opened me to a new energy. A way of observing grief and life without resistance. I learned to let sorrow exist, to honor it and to find strength without hardening my heart.

During those 10 days in Nepal, the silence, the 

crisp mountain air and the gentle murmur of the nearby stream became my companions. 

The quiet reflection, the shared energy of fellow practitioners and the rhythm of my own breath gave me perspective: grief is universal, yet our response, our willingness to hold it with love…is where transformation happens.

“Grief is universal yet our willingness to hold it with love, transforms the pain into wisdom and strength.”

Support and Connection - Liza and the Threads of Love

And now, Even in the darkest moments, love arrives in unexpected ways. 

Liza, a dear friend, has been a constant presence. She came to my mom’s 30 days prayer, stayed the whole day with me, mingled with my nephews and nieces and offered quiet support.

Her friendship is a living testament to how grief can create connection. 

She herself lost her spouse recently…yet she still guides me today, shares her journey and teaches by example. Together, we understand that grief doesn’t have a timeline; it ebbs and flows but love and support remain.

“Even in the darkest moments, love arrives in unexpected ways.”

The Present - Resilience and Reflection

Today, I am a seasoned traveler through grief. 

Yet, grieving continues, tears come, memories arrive and sometimes the heart feels raw again. 

Especially tonight. And that is okay. Every part of me exists because of what I’ve lived through.

Even now, small moments of light remind me that life is still here to be felt:

Small moments were powerful:

• a warm cup of ginger chai in the morning sun
• the gentle breeze brushing my face during a walk
• a quiet laugh with a friend
• the soft vibrations of a yoga practice flowing through my body

These subtle joys anchor me, reminding me that life, though marked by loss…is still full of presence, love and beauty. 

I have learned that strength and tenderness can coexist. Even after my heart has been shattered, love still flows through me. 

I get up, I live, I care and I love. 

I honor the memory of those who have gone, knowing their journeys on earth were complete and they now rest in peace.

“Strength and tenderness can coexist and even after our hearts are shattered, love still flows through us.”

A Legacy for Future Generations

To my nephews, nieces, the Gen Y, Gen Z, Gen Alpha, Gen Beta and beyond…may you know this: 

Life will bring heartbreak, loss and unexpected challenges. But these blows are not the end of your story. They are the sculptor’s chisel.

Love, presence and compassion will remain within you, even when your heart breaks. 

Strength does not erase tenderness; resilience can live with vulnerability. 

And grief, though profound, can teach you how to rise, how to care and how to live fully.

May your heart be open. 

May your life be full. 

May you continue to notice the quiet joys; a shared laugh, a warm breeze, the embrace of a friend…

that exists even in the shadow of loss. 

And may you always…always find a way to rise, always wiser, stronger and brimming with LOVE. 

“The sculptor’s chisel shapes us but it cannot take away the love, joy and light that remain within our hearts.”