The time of experiencing death of the person close to you is a very strange period, in which all the people around become shadows and you become a kind of ghost too. I have never gone through such a difficult time.
13 years ago I lost my grandpa. I was away and one beautiful June’s day I received a phone call with the message of his death. I knew that he had been ill for a long time; I had visited him in hospital. I wasn’t near him in his last minutes. I didn’t see him after his vanishing. Perhaps I was younger and the world was calling for me to return from the path of sorrow. However, I couldn’t get used to the thought that I would never see him again. I often talk to him, believe in his presence.
Now I have allowed myself to immerse into suffering and loss.
I saw my grandma on a day before she left. I told her: “See you tomorrow” and kissed her forehead, caressed her head and smiled sadly. She looked at me reproachfully as she wanted to say: “Can’t you see I am dying.” I can almost hear despair and fear in her voiceless complaint. I prayed not to hear that loudly. I was on the edge. My nerves were frayed.
I had been watching her dying for almost two months. It hurts.
That is blessing that she doesn’t suffer any longer.
There are many things which I have learnt recently and one of them is that you are never prepared for ultimate leaving of someone you love. The part of you dies then. You are unable to be prepared for your own dying.
My Grandma about my age
