September 18th, 2013
Wednesday. The middle child of the weekday family. It often passes away unnoticed by the ever-busy people yearning for the weekend. But not for me.
Today was the day I lost my grandfather. He was 86. He died of Pulmonary Fibrosis, a disease that has no cure. He passed away at 8:46 am, when I was upstairs, learning for my biology practical. I knew something was wrong, although my parents asked me to go and study, telling me that they’ll have to admit him. But he no longer lived to see the insides of a hospital, for by the time the ambulance got here; he had passed away in my father’s arms.
The shock was unbelievable. I had expected him to go someday judging by his disease, but not today. Not so suddenly. He had had a fever the night before, but it seemed normal-ish. Everything seemed fine, even in the morning. But this just shows how suddenly life changes, at the very instant.
This was my first experience of losing a loved one. I had seen people die before but this was the first time I lost someone close to me. The grief was new, intolerable at first. At first, my heart couldn’t accept what my brain already had. Then it hit me. I was never going to see my granddad smiling ever again. I didn’t know how to come to terms with the fact. I saw tears in everyone’s eyes. My cousin stayed with me, and told me about all the memories she had with him. My only regret was the fact that even though I lived in the same house, I never said goodbye. I went to his room in the morning, to get a book. He was sleeping, turning to the other side. I figured I’d say Hi later. But later never came. That was my last glimpse of my granddad alive.
I went to see the body. I’d never seen a body before, except in movies. It shocked me how his mouth was open. It was shocking that I burst, right there. It took me three long hours to control my tears. Then, surprisingly, a wave of calm passed over me. It was done. There was no point crying about it anymore. I still cried, sometimes. But I tried to engage myself in other stuff, just to get my mind of it. I’m trying my hardest, even now, pounding at the keyboard, just to stop my feelings to overwhelm me. But I know that I can’t run away from my thoughts. I’ll have to face them sometime.
Regrets? Not having said goodbye. Not having talked properly with him in his last few days. There are plenty. But just these regrets ain’t going to get me anywhere. Being strong is a hard thing, but I’ll try my best to hang on. The memories will remain, but the happy ones. I’ll try my best to move on. It’s a beyond belief feeling, but to cope I must try. Try and try. Probably I may have no other choice. But I know, up there, he’ll want me to be happy. We all loved him, but the Lord loved him more.