Remembrances of Phyllis Roe

by Yoshi Fujitani

Renno Shonin is the 15th century author of that letter on the White Ashes, which was just read by Mary Matsuda. He had sent it to a group of his disciples to remind them of the impermanent nature of human existence and of the universal workings of the Infinite Compassion of the Buddha. He does not camouflage his lessons in fancy rhetoric. In this letter he tells us that our lives are very fleeting, some living longer than others, perhaps, but hardly anyone lives beyond a hundred years, he tells us. We must know, then, that if the causes and conditions are there one's life may end. How sad, but that is reality, he says.

Kobayashi Issa, a haiku poet of the Pure Land Buddhist persuasion, wrote upon the loss of his young child: "The world of dew is the world of dew, and yet, and yet!" He is saying what we feel today, that our minds tell us that, yes, life is impermanent, but our hearts find it difficult to accept the reality of the loss of our loved one, our dear Phyllis.

Ever since seven years ago, when Phyllis underwent her first surgery for the aneurysm of her aorta, she was very conscious of her health condition, and diligently watched her diet and did her exercises. She could not do heavy lifting of things because of the strain it would cause. I believe she knew that her life was in a very delicate balance. Unfortunately, although she was very careful, circumstances beyond her control tipped the scale adversely, taking her away from us so prematurely.

For many of us, Phyllis was not only a teacher and counselor, but also a genuine friend in whom we had total trust. We knew that she was always there, no matter how busy her assignments kept her...and she was too busy, I thought.

There is a Japanese poem that says, in translation, "We view and admire the beautiful mountain only when it is convenient for us, but the mountain is always there gazing at us."

This is a poem that chides us for our self-centeredness, but it is also an affirmation of the constancy and ever presence of the Other, the Most Compassionate One. I wish to offer that thought for our reflection in appreciation of what Phyllis really meant to us. Like the mountain she was always there for us.

I cannot help but recall the memorial service held here ten years ago for Phyllis' husband, Michael, who also left us suddenly. We noted at that time that Michael was a "cultured gentleman," an expression coined by Dr. Vannevar Bush of MIT. A "cultured gentleman," he explained, was one who excelled in his chosen vocation and was, at the same time, generous in his sharing of his knowledge and skills and strengts with others...that he was, in essence, a person of both wisdom and compassion.

Phyllis, too, was not only bright, and humorous, and kind and gentle. She was, certainly, wise and compassionate, and truly a "cultured gentle lady."

If Phyllis' spirit, which seems to pervade this sanctuary today, were to speak to us, I feel she would say something to the effect that we must all continue to love and respect one another and work together to further the wonderful work of the Counseling Center, to which she dedicated her final decade of her life.

And if we are to celebrate the life of Phyllis, if we are to honor the memory of Phyllis and her work, we can do no other than to continue and advance the compassionate work of the Center by supporting it in whatever way we can.

That is the way I remember Phyllis and her legacy.

Namu Amida Butsu (Homage to the Buddha of Infinite Light and Life)

Yoshiaki Fujitani