Have you ever experienced Grief before? How did you handle it?
Well, I guess itâs safe to say I do not know what prompted this angle of narration from me. (You might want to check my previous post for context). Humanly speaking, I have experienced griefâmaybe a taste of it, but certainly not as deep as the one I narrated in my previous post ( titled âAn African Motherâs Taste of Griefâ).
Two year ago, I lost my Grandmom to a distended abdomenâand probably old age. She died in front of me, at age 96. In my Dadâs arms and in the presence of his eldest sister. The experience isnât something I would be forgetting so easily for a long time. I remember people asking my family members why we were so sad at the time, perhaps because they believed age 96 was a fairly fulfilling age for anyone who had lived that long. But what they did not know was that grief did not know age. It transcends conventional understanding. Grief recognizes bond, friendships and relationships. It is a sacred thing of the heart.
My Grandmom and I were quite close in a safe familial senseâin the same way she was to most, if not all her grandchildren. Especially my Eldest sister. I still remember the moment the Doctor confirmed her death. I had sprawled myself on the floor, unashamedly. Surrounded by nurses lying to me that she wasnât fully gone. That there were still possible chance she could just resurrect from the bed and still be okay. Lol. đđ How crazy of me to think that a part of me desperately wanted to believe them. But now, thinking of it all, I understood that it was their own way of trying to comfort a mourning girlie like me. Who knows how many more cases of ridiculous display of grief and ear-splitting wailing they must have experienced in their hospital.
Something in me changed that day. It spontaneously dawned on me that adulthood had actually set in. That it was possible for things to change in a twinkle of an eye. That it was possible to know and love someone so dearly all your life, down into your twenties, and still lose them like a wisp of smoke. Just like that!
Oh how fickle life can be! All of that living wealth of experiences with them had melted away. There would be no more human presence of them to ever speak to again. Now the only thing I have, nestled in my heart to remember her is a pool of beautiful memories. Mostly, moments spent in the farm, harvesting cassava, or when she would sit around us and make sure she shared even the tiniest portion of her own meat to everyone present in the room with her. Or times when Iâd witnessed her settling communal disputes during womenâs meeting. And things like that.
I still remember her sometimes, and it saddens me. It hurts so badly. Especially the last words she said to me. How much she struggled with a bloated stomach. She was willing to live. I had seen it in her eyes because I stayed with her through it allâTill the end. Safe to say all of these things softened me. Hard guy like me.đ I didnât know I loved her so much. My Grams!
Grief is not something I would ever wish on anyone. But unfortunately, it is an indelible part of the human experience, which we can either allow consume us, or learn to vanquish when it comes. And so today, Iâm wishing anyone who has had to deal with grief either too early in life, or at some point in their adult life. Know that you are loved, strong and simply human. And all of these life-experiences are what build us. We are all living soldiers in this journey called life. Try to surround yourself with friends and pleasant events that can help relief you of these difficult feelings and make you feel better.
Sending you Love and plenty of hugs from here. Apples and berries! đ«¶â€ïž
Pen.opera stories 