Death is an unsaid, unknown thing or rather fear. Death is the darkest reality we can ever face. There is no way out because we can’t meet it when we want; even the people who attempt for suicide attempts are rescued sometimes.
When we are told that, ‘He/she has passed away’, we frankly don’t know what to do. Should we ask ‘how’, or start crying, or should we start hiding our feelings from that moment itself, or should we sink in it, or let it go? Or should we say, ‘It’s sad news,’ or should we ask, ‘but what about the family?’
For centuries, this concept of death has been very bizarre. What is it?
Such a long sleep that it hurts so much for the person to forget to know that he/she had to wake up?
Or the fact that the person is in hell or heaven now? Or the gruesome question that is the beloved one watching me now? Can he or she see things about false emotions that they should not have known when they were alive? Or that there is life after this death?
I dont have answers either. Because it is death. It is explicable but really inexplicable. It is so much pain but the dead person doesn’t feel it anymore. He or she is gone. The pain is on their families now. On their friends.
We have all had different ways of remembering the death of a close loved one but as Gail Honeyman truly said, ‘Time doesnt erase the pain, it just blunts it’
Even after a grandma has died for twenty years, the grandpa still sheds tears when her favorite dish is being prepared.
Even after ten years of a sibling’s death, the guilt of not being with him or her when the person had decided to die, always stays indelible.
Nothing more you can do because it is death. It is hard to move away, hard to stop yourself from calling the dead person’s name when their favourite song starts, hard to stay quiet when you want to tell them all, hard to love them after they are gone because you hated them all your life, hard to just let go.
Because they are gone.