SCABs

5 LONG YEARS. – By @EvaMenovsky

By Eva Menovksy

 

5 LONG YEARS.

 

I had a really good talk with Alex about grief and loss.

She said, when you lose someone, whether that person dies or is apart from you, they leave a hole inside you.

It’s a hole that you aren’t able to fill, it will always stay a hole.

Isn’t that a beautiful thing, that someone can leave a hole inside you that can’t be replaced.

And you should embrace your holes. You should look at them as a honey beehive.

Where the holes make you who you are. And you just have to shape them inside you, take them all in.

It’s funny when someone close to you dies or is away from you, most people don’t feel whole anymore.

Like a part is missing.

That’s how it felt when my grandmother passed away.

She left a huge hole in everyone’s life.

I have been trying to fill that hole, with love for my friends and my family.

But even 5 years later, I think about her every day. I still miss her so much. And it still hurts as much as when my mom told me on that Friday morning that she had passed away.

I was showing when I heard a scream, that kind of deep painful scream, from my little sister.

When you hear something like that, from your little sister, your heart rips apart.

Soaking wet, I went downstairs. My mom and her best friend sitting calmly on the couch.

You know that kind of calmness a parent can do when they have bad news for their children.

I had never seen my sister crying like that, there was something childlike about the way she cried.

So pure and so deep.

Slowly the world started to go slow down, fade away.

And before you know it, I ran upstairs, started to throw with things.

Bursting into tears.

I don’t like it when my mom sees me cry.

The next days were hazy.

Having to leave my dead grandmother’s room whenever we wanted to cry, so her soul could leave in peace.

Laughing as me and my sister were running behind each other the way she always used to do.

Singing with monks as the smell of my grandmother was covered with scents.

Cuddling my mom as we laid in a dark room while the sun was shining outside.

Yeah, grief is hard.

But I feel like the hardest is yet to come.

When I start to forget what her laugh sounds like.

Or when her face starts fading away.

When you stop remembering, that’s the hardest part.

Or when you realise she will never be at your wedding.

Meet your children.

Or see you grown into someone who wants to be just like her.

I don’t think there is a part missing from me anymore.

I think I gained parts from my grandmother.

She gave some of herself to me when she passed.

And I have never felt closer to her.

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