8 Years Ago
I have never been able to deal with my grandfather's death which for other people has a normal progression. I come from a dysfunctional family and my grandfather was the only person I respected and looked upto. But, I did not realize this fact in such a strong way till he died. I always knew I loved him a lot and respected him and that he was like an amalgam holding things together, including my sanity but, it was only after his passing that gradually I woke up to the hard hitting fact that I need him in my life more than ever and that he was the only family I had.
I could not tell him my last goodbyes as I was away in another part of the country for educational purpose. When I came back and held his frozen and preserved body in my arms like he was waiting for his grandson to complete the funeral rights, I realized that I lost something that no one will ever be able to make up for... Something more precious than divine faith or love of the self. It was love in the most unadulterated form which I was too lucky to have as a soothing balm for my wounds and a tree trunk to hide behind.
I wonder why I still mourn him, his passing and never find an answer. I perhaps never will. I miss him more than anything and feel the void left behind by him in everything I do. R.I.P and peace to you Dada!
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