I had planned to wear the black, casual, mid-length, cotton dress with a dark red scarf and hat, the same outfit I’d worn the day before for Valentine’s Day. I thought this would add a bit of color to the black that most folks traditionally wear to a funeral service. But this was no ordinary funeral service; it was a celebration of Jean Vegas’s life, and as I would learn more that day, Jean was no ordinary person.
I chanted in the car on the way to the, the Kaikan, the center for the New Orleans SGI, the Soka Gakai International, a lay Nichiren Diashonin Buddhist organization dedicated to propagating world peace, where the services were being held. I was late, as usual. This time because Molly Dolly, my four-legged child, a fifteen-pound chihuahua, pug, black, white and brindle mix was, perhaps, inspired by fluttering butterflies too, and had escaped and went on her own walking adventure, from which I had to find her and bring her safely home.
As I arrived, I noticed the butterfly display with photos of Jean and the cards with various colored beautiful butterflies commemorating her life. A little spark of joy made my heart flutter. I had gotten a mystic, universal message from Jean. When I entered the big Gohonzon room, the experience or narrative part of the ceremony was just beginning. I sat back, took a breath, and braced myself for some beautiful memories of Jean. I had no idea how intricately connected she was in the community. I saw a local piano player at the service. And there were folks from various environmental and non-profit groups that she’d worked with and known, and of course so many stories of thirty-five years of practicing Nichiren Buddhism and living in different districts in the New Orleans area. She’d lived on the West Bank and inspired, the present Mississippi and Louisiana Vice Leader, Mayumi, who, at the time, was struggling with a divorce and other personal issues, by calling her often to chant with her. “Let’s chant,” Mayumi said, emulating the same joy that Jean had conveyed to her. There were countless stories of giving Jean rides to Buddhist meetings and of Jean suggesting essential oils as a remedy for this ailment or that home problem. People spoke about how much Jean truly cared about others. I was reminded of President Ikeda words, "The truth is that devoting ourselves to others' happiness is actually a necessary condition for becoming genuinely happy ourselves.”
Jean was always willing to impart wisdom, but she was also an avid learner. I remember visiting her at West Jefferson Hospital, where she was recuperating last year. We had a conversation about my classes and how I assigned a film, What the Health, to over a hundred students per semester to watch, and for some, to analyze in an essay. We spoke about the information in the film. The next time we met, she had watched the film and said that no one had ever told her that, in other words, the potential consequences of our flesh-based diet. I knew that Jean had struggled with the disease of obesity; I didn’t realize it had been for much of her life. She said she wished she had known this information sooner. It made me so sad to think that so many others, who genuinely want to heal and want to live their absolute best vibrant lives must suffer from totally preventable food born illnesses, like obesity, heart disease, diabetes, cancer, strokes, dementia, and so many other food related illnesses.
Jean’s circumstances and her ability to never give up on herself and others, and her desire to make a positive difference in the world have really inspired me. A fellow organizer told the story of Jean’s dream for the Night Owl Café, where people in the non-profit community and many different organizations could come together to exchange information and help each other. And just like seeing butterflies, I instantly saw this café in my mind. I thought, “We have to make this happen for Jean.” I imagined the process of applying for loans and getting an investor etc. And since this has also been one of my many dreams as well, to own a vegan café / tea and coffee shop, I felt a since of responsibility to help make sure this Café manifest in the physical world. Even though I feel this is a real possibility, I then thought, since I’m a writer, that with the help of her friends, family, and our Buddhist community, I’d write the story of the different characters that visit the Café, and Jean could be the proprietor forever. She could have her café in a book and listen to other people’s stories, share her wisdom, help others gather to share their dreams for Kosen Rufu, world peace, for an eternity in a story.
There are countless possibilities, but I’m sure that this book was inspired by Jean, just like my butterfly dress and giant butterfly clip holding my gathered hair in place pulled over my shoulder. And just like all butterflies, I’m sure that Jean is fluttering around in the mystic, inspiring all of us to be our best, to express our voices, to stand up to injustice, and to gather as a community of Buddhist practitioners, of artists, of organizations working toward the betterment of society, and of conscientious souls swirling in this mystic Night Owl Café world.
