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Missing Tamal Krishna Goswami.
\nBy his brother, Carl Herzig.
\nSeventeen years ago today (on the lunar calendar), we received the phone call informing us of the unexpected passing of my brother, Tamal Krishna Goswami, my only remaining immediate family member (besides \u201cmy own\u201d) and one of the few of my extended family, in a car crash in India. Not a day goes by that I don\u2019t\u2019 think of him with gratitude, sadness, joy, appreciation, respect, and myriad emotions\u2014but mostly, and especially, love. (I express some of my thoughts and memories in the essay \u201cThe Older Brother,\u201d in Giriraj Swami\u2019s beautiful book Many Moons.)<\/p>\n
In many ways, I feel closer to Tamal now than ever\u2014that our relationship has actually deepened over the years. But for some reason, today, more than other anniversaries of the date, I\u2019m just missing him, feeling the void of his absence (as are so many others).<\/p>\n
Anyone who ever even met Tamal, let alone those with whom he was close, would agree: there was no one like him. For so many, he was the one to call when you just couldn\u2019t work something out, or were in real trouble. He was, to employ an overused term, a truly great man\u2014one who touched the hearts of tens of thousands and changed so many lives. He was staunch devotee and disciple, and a deeply loving though sometimes stern, guiding, and inspiring spiritual teacher and father. And also an affectionate, loving uncle to our three children, whom he adored and held close. Many devotees spent far more time with him than I and in some ways knew him much better. He and I were separated for many years, together again only since the mid-\u201990s. But when we were together, that didn\u2019t matter; our love for each other had no interruption, no beginning or end.<\/p>\n
Today I just miss my big brother, Tommy. I miss his hugs, his smell, the looks that said volumes. I miss guiding him through London\u2019s National Gallery, for the first time being able to serve as his teacher; I miss him calling to check on how the kids were doing; I miss being mad at him when (I was 4 or 5) he broke my toy snap-gun, being amazed at how much ice cream he could eat while we walked down Broadway in NY, the feeling of safety when he led me to the top of the children\u2019s-slide steps and then raced around to stand at the bottom, arms wide, waiting to catch me when I slid down; I miss the feeling of his hand on my shoulder as we kicked up the dust-soft sand of Vrindavan, walking the paths into the forests of Vraja; I miss him teaching me, at the age of 45, how to tie my shoes, as if I\u2019d never tied them before; I miss seeing him grab our youngest, Irene, hold her in his lap, and squeeze her till she giggled and squealed; I miss his tears as we shared memories, regrets; I miss knowing he was always there. I just miss him.
\nMore photos: https:\/\/goo.gl\/WhAinx<\/a><\/p>\n