To have loved and lost

“The tears I feel today
I’ll wait to shed tomorrow.
Though I’ll not sleep this night
Nor find surcease from sorrow.
My eyes must keep their sight:
I dare not be tear-blinded.
I must be free to talk
Not choked with grief, clear-minded.
My mouth cannot betray
The anguish that I know.
Yes, I’ll keep my tears til later:
But my grief will never go.”
– Anne McCaffrey Dragonsinger

Grief is!

It is real.

It is present.

Grief brings upon you grace; grace to accept the frailty of life. I lost my grandmother last week and for the first time in my life figured what it means to lose a loved one. I saw her slipping away into the sunset, past the clouds and into a horizon of peace. I know she is in a good place because she always made sure that her entire fold (children, grandchildren and great grand children) stayed in one. I cannot remember a time when she wasn’t there for us when we were growing up. She lived her life always for us first.

I’ve had her around from the day I was born and then to suddenly not know her presence is weakening. I cannot write because it is too painful, but I do know that there is comfort in it for me. We were all there besides her, holding her, loving her and letting her know that we will be there for her through her journey. Most of all, through her speechless days, she was telling us that she was finally ready to go.

Most days, when I think I’ve got a hold over myself, something from my childhood comes knocking and knocks me over. The first day felt like grief had put its hands into my chest and wrenched my heart out. It felt so terribly real that I did not know how to deal with it. I still don’t. I will have to let it wash over me. Death is painful, but it is also deeply cleansing and purifying.

“Grief reunites you with what you’ve lost. It’s a merging; you go with the loved thing or person that’s going away. You follow it a far as you can go. But finally, the grief goes away and you phase back into the world without him. And you can accept that. What the hell choice is there? You cry, you continue to cry, because you don’t ever completely come back from where you went with him — a fragment broken off your pulsing, pumping heart is there still. A cut that never heals.”

I will miss you terribly all the days of my life, Amachi.



11 thoughts on “To have loved and lost

  1. I am so sorry for your loss, Sharoon! I lost my grandfather (to whom I was very close) a few weeks ago myself; I appreciate every word in your post. I wouldn’t say it gets better with time, but you definitely begin to remember all the beautiful moments you shared with them and learn to celebrate the full life they lived.

    • Thanks, Hema! I’m sorry for your loss, too! It is so private that not even your closest friend or family members can grasp the depths of it. I think I’m being selfish in how I’m grieving. I want to hold onto everything about her for myself–even the grief.

      • Thanks, Sharoon! I so get what you’re saying — I’m not someone who does well with sharing my grief with others either. I’ve learned to accept over time that each of us does things differently and it’s ok as long as we’re not hurting anyone in the process.

  2. Sorry to hear about your loss Sharoon.

    In my personal experience time does heal – the cut never heals but the pain lessens, the absence is always felt but sweet memories remain.

    • Thanks, Karen. I would never vent something so personal on to binary codes :-), but it felt like I’d burst open any moment, every moment. Writing somewhat helped numb that pain. Thanks for taking time out read.

  3. what a beautiful thing you’ve written here, fireball. absolutely beautiful. i am so sorry for the loss of your sweet grandmother. you and your family have my prayers. please let me know if there is anything else i can do. –even from 10,000 miles away! as someone who has suffered much loss, i am definitely capable of being a listening & empathetic ear, at the least.

    *hugs and much love*

    • Thanks, Tiesha! That does mean a lot. I know you truly understand. Thank you. Pray for her soul, and pray that I may at least be some what like her–selfless and giving, all the time. Thanks for stopping by.

  4. I’m sorry Sharoon- it’s so hard to lose your grandmother. I’m so, so glad you were with her. What a precious gift.
    My own grandmother died almost 15 years ago- I miss her still.

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