There's been a lot of loss these past few weeks. A friend from high-school who succumbed to a ravaging cancer after a year of courageous fighting. A friend who lost her father. Another who lost his mother. Makes me pause and think about what remains.
The first person I know who died, was my grandmother. I was nine years-old, and she was my favorite person in the world. I remember how she hid chocolates under her pillow, and I would sneak in and steal them. I remember her hoarse voice, her hugs, her pineapple cake. I remember sleeping next to her and feeling safe. And I remember how she loved me.
The thing about loss, is that it tells you what's real. When someone physically disappears from your life, your realize what this person really was through the memories he leaves behind. When my mother died, my brother was 7 years-old. He doesn't remember what job she had, how she dressed, or how she wore her hair. But he does remember that she used to take him fishing on the Manara, with makeshift fishing-rod she put together with string, a wooden stick, and a borrowed hook. My sister lost her best-friend when she was 17, and when she thinks about her, she talks about her adventurous spirit and their late nights of confidences. Not what grades she had in school or she wanted to study at university. My 11-year-old cousin died, less than two years ago, and everyone remembers his smile. His sisters remember his mischievous eyes, his friends remember the pranks he played. His father remembers his generous spirit, his mother remembers the feeling of holding him tight against her.
Everything that is important, remains. The courage of those who fought, the smiles, the kisses, the I-love-yous; the moments only you two shared, like laughing your head off because of an empty toothpaste --something no one else will ever understand, but that still makes you feel like you share a joke, from across heaven and earth.
We spend so much time on things that will never matter. We get upset about materialistic objects that in the big scheme of things have absolutely no value. And sometimes we neglect the only things we will be able to take with us --or leave behind. The things that, in the end, make us who we are. Maybe the best way to learn how to live life, is to learn from those who already lived.
The first person I know who died, was my grandmother. I was nine years-old, and she was my favorite person in the world. I remember how she hid chocolates under her pillow, and I would sneak in and steal them. I remember her hoarse voice, her hugs, her pineapple cake. I remember sleeping next to her and feeling safe. And I remember how she loved me.
The thing about loss, is that it tells you what's real. When someone physically disappears from your life, your realize what this person really was through the memories he leaves behind. When my mother died, my brother was 7 years-old. He doesn't remember what job she had, how she dressed, or how she wore her hair. But he does remember that she used to take him fishing on the Manara, with makeshift fishing-rod she put together with string, a wooden stick, and a borrowed hook. My sister lost her best-friend when she was 17, and when she thinks about her, she talks about her adventurous spirit and their late nights of confidences. Not what grades she had in school or she wanted to study at university. My 11-year-old cousin died, less than two years ago, and everyone remembers his smile. His sisters remember his mischievous eyes, his friends remember the pranks he played. His father remembers his generous spirit, his mother remembers the feeling of holding him tight against her.
Everything that is important, remains. The courage of those who fought, the smiles, the kisses, the I-love-yous; the moments only you two shared, like laughing your head off because of an empty toothpaste --something no one else will ever understand, but that still makes you feel like you share a joke, from across heaven and earth.
We spend so much time on things that will never matter. We get upset about materialistic objects that in the big scheme of things have absolutely no value. And sometimes we neglect the only things we will be able to take with us --or leave behind. The things that, in the end, make us who we are. Maybe the best way to learn how to live life, is to learn from those who already lived.
it is so touching.. i know what it feels like to lose close ones...
ReplyDeleteHow does it feel losing close ones joana ?
ReplyDelete