Kalyani DuPont
Death takes away the weariness of life and the soul begins life anew.
— Pir-o-Murshid Inayat Khan
WAVE OF REMEMBRANCE FOR FADUA FRANCIS
(this Wave of Remembrance for Fadua will remain open until 8th November 2019)
A GATHERING
On Sunday, September 15, 2019, at 11:30am, a small group of immediate family and friends came together in Isha and Fadua’s home in Portland, Oregon. Such gatherings are often called memorials, or honorings or something similar. This gathering was called:
Saudade, Lembrança é Celebração
Longing, Remembrance & Celebration
The Longing will be there, in Fadua’s absent presence, which will fill the space.
The Remembrance will be there in the stories to be told.
And the Celebration will be in the food and of course, the wine, which Fadua will always insist upon.
And you are invited to take a moment when you can, of Saudade, Lembrança é Celebração and to have a sip of wine or whatever suits your fancy, and remember and celebrate a life well lived.
Honouring the life of Fadua Francis
The weekend of September 14th and 15th we had a retreat with Sufi friends in our house in Nuis in the North of the Netherlands (see picture below).
Among our group were several who had known Fadua from her years in the Khankah in Surrey, in the Katwijk Center in the Netherlands and from more recent periods. During the retreat we spent some time exchanging stories and memories of Fadua and in that way we honoured her life. Several memories came by: sitting with Fadua in the Katwijk dunes on a sunny Sunday afternoon, working with her in the bookshop of the Universel, Fadua offering the help of her ‘miracle doctor’ in Brazil…..
At the end of our weekend retreat we had a closing ceremony with the Zikr of Gratitude. We dedicated the Zikr to the life of Fadua and the memories of her presence. And by doing so we made our contribution to the Wave of Remembrance
With love,
Elmer and friends from Sufi Way Netherlands
Saudade, Lembrança é Celebração for Fadua in Tourly
In memory of Fadua
With our love, Dahan and Mèhèra
Dahan and I have many lovely memories with Fadua, whom we know as a very fine, yet strong, gentle and deep soul.
One of the treasured memories goes back to the end of a « magical » workshop Isha had given at Finca Santa Catalina in Spain.
After everyone had left, we – Sitara, Fadua, Isha and myself – wanted to go out for dinner before returning home. I had heard of a restaurant belonging to a mysterious Spanish Duke; this seemed ideal for the occasion! When after a drive through the countryside we arrived at the front gate in the evening, it looked promising enough; except that no light nor soul was to be seen! Nothing to stop Fadua: as there was a phone number, she decided to call. Portuguese, Spanish, French, English? No problem, she could plead our cause eloquently!
And indeed she did! In no time we were ushered to a gorgeous courtyard, where we were invited to enjoy the colourful flowerbeds and the water’s murmur of an old fountain, while everything was being prepared! The elegant dining room was suddenly bathed in a soft golden light and flooded with classical music.
This was Fadua’s time! We sat there with huge menus – that would have said nothing to us but for Fadua: she was suddenly like the duchess in person, hosting us in perfect style. Radiant, she was deciphering the menu for us with delight and competence.
She had fun and was really happy!
And this image of her stays with me.
One day Fadua gave me a poem of Rumi, which she liked very much, and asked me if I could compose for her a tune or a song to this poem.
Here are the words with the audio file below:
“ Bird songs bring relief to my longing..
I am as ecstatic as they are
But with nothing to say.
Please universal soul, practice some song,
Or something through me. “
with love always, Mèhèra
Dear Fadua,
We say you’re gone, but are you really? Aren’t you just round the corner, looking from your beautiful black eyes?
Although you were almost at the other end of the world – indeed a substantial distance between Tourly and Buffalo and then Portland! – you’ve always been round the corner for me, ever since I met you in the summer 1991 at the memorable family gathering at Four Winds after Murshid Fazal’s passing.
This was my first contact with Sufi Way, and what a contact! I had met Mehera and Dahan just a year before and as I had shown interest, they had told me I could come but would be on my own.
Then I met you Fadua and felt immediately attracted to you. You were warm and welcoming. I had so many questions – which of course I wouldn’t have dared to ask, but no need, it seems you would guess and offer me an answer or an explanation at their very inception!
You liked to speak French – part of your heritage when your family had left Lebanon to settle down in Brazil. That’s probably how you inherited this adventurous side of yours. It could easily be overlooked but doesn’t it take some guts to embark as you did on a flying carpet bound to London – that’s how you put it – after attending a conference by Murshid in Sao Paulo?
Murshid Fazal had asked you to come over and translate “The life of a Sufi” by Musharraf Inayat-Khan in Portuguese, which you did. You loved it so much that you stayed and always had a portrait of him in your luggage. And travel you would!
You are fun, Fadua, you like to laugh and you’re witty. You liked to remember little stories : “the welcoming comity” – so you called the 3 adorable puppies always greeting us in Teresa’s house where Isha was leading a program; the sandwich of French French mustard (it’s very very sharp!) you served to Isha, who had almost led you into the ditch, as you were criss-crossing the French roads, on some wild assignment of Murshid; or the monkey you had discovered one morning when you lived in India sitting in the kitchen with cross legs, elbow on the table obviously waiting for breakfast; or the Brazilian cook interviewed by your sister-in-law who had 2 rates – one higher if “thinking” (which meant deciding on the menus) was required – and right, this makes a lot of sense, believe me!
And of course, there were these very special moments during our yearly gatherings in England. I remember us ladies sitting in the garden in Roughwood, chatting, drinking tea, eating the cookies that Murshida Sitara had baked and stored in her famous secret green box sitting above the kitchen cupboard…and more than once, — cutting beans for the dinner, when 12 or 14 of us would have no problem finding place around Sitara’s dinner table – which reasonably accommodates 6 – to enjoy beautiful moments of eternity.
Then, years passing by, we didn’t see much of each other anymore. But is that true?
Isn’t the hearts, which see?
Yes, I see your warm dark eyes, the red on your lips, I hear your deep voice.
I feel the depth of your wisdom.
Yes Fadua, you’re alive, for ever.
My love – Martine
A selection of photos from Dahan, Mèhèra and Martine’s albums:
From Carol Barrow: What I love about Fadua (and wish I would have told her, so I hope she’s listening):
I love how Fadua played (as evidenced in these photos).
I love her spiritual openness. In her mid-seventies, Fadua was the oldest participant in a series of spiritual retreats. She read books by authors who taught her to question held beliefs. She seemed to have a deep trust in life, assuring others when facing health challenges of her own.
I love her kindness, how she and Isha included people in their prayers, how they held me in their prayers when I had surgeries.
I love her love, her excitement when Ethan was born, how the proud new grandparents shared photos of him. And how happy she was that their house was large enough for Ana’s family to move in with them before Arden arrived. From an email: “Thank God we have a big house and could accommodate them and the little one who is coming. The guardian angel is very attentive, arranging the pieces together, and we are very thankful for all the blessings.” Then, after Arden was born, Fadua wrote about her: “She is a little orchid, more beautiful every day.”
I love how, at the end of most of her emails to me, Fadua would mention nature: the daffodils outside, seeing the footprints of the rabbit who “dances the tarantella at night”, and the crocuses that were coming.
***
We often say last goodbyes without knowing it, believing we will meet again. My last goodbye with Fadua could have been on retreat in the beautiful Colorado mountains in 2008. But eleven years later, about a month before her passing, I was able to visit her one last time. I loved the few days I was able to spend with her. At 88, Fadua was still every bit as beautiful as I remembered her, her skin still perfect. We sat in silence or watched Brazilian television. Nothing needed to be different, nothing needed to be done. We could just be. Complete acceptance. This time when I left, I knew it would be my last goodbye. Or was it? Who am I to know?
Back in 2008, I emailed Isha and Fadua, thanking them for their prayers before my shoulder surgery. In the email I told them I hoped to be healed in time to be able to pick the peas growing in our garden. A line from Fadua’s response:
I am no gardener, but in my next incarnation it is in my list of things to be, and I hope the Highest Authorities will grant my wish, amen.
Dear Fadua, if that is still your wish, may it be granted.
Love
Carol
With love from Mark (Parinda) Takefman:
This is an old picture of when we all used to get together for a Qalandar celebration at Christina’s house in Cooperstown.
I vividly recall Fadua being so joyful and the wise one of the gathering. And yes, sometimes wise-ass, but she was always coming from a deep place of love and concern for others.
Namaste Fadua
Kalyani DuPont