Life Goes On

Everyone always has a story about how they came close to death, through an accident, or something. But that isn't the only way you can come in contact with it. When my grandfather passed away a couple of weeks ago, it was the closest I ever came to death. It was like an entity hovering around us. A single word, yet so powerful.

In the Quran, it says that for a while after a person passes away, they can still see their loved ones, so we mustn't cry too much. I whole heartedly believe in that, because it was a great source of comfort getting through the first few days. Knowing that he was still watching over us, watching as my grandmother cried herself to sleep, as my aunt tried to explain to my three year old cousin how he had 'gone back' to God, as my dad kissed my forehead, and hugged me , gently telling me to quieten my tears, as he himself rubbed his sore, red eyes.

I didn't feel anger, I felt peace in the fact he was no longer suffering. Dementia is one of the most heartbreaking things that can happen to a family member, and I was glad he was now happy, and with his own long gone parents and sisters.

It has been strange, trying to cope with this new feeling. It's like a heavy dark lead weight on my chest, that presses down when I suddenly remember he is no longer on this world. You see it in books and films and it's so dramatic, but in real life, it's completely different. We stuck together as a family, and no one is going through it alone. Especially not our grandmother. That first night, my dad, my aunt and my uncle all slept in her flat, probably the first time in years, so they could help their mother through that difficult time.

If there was anything good to come of it, it was the fact that it really did bring the whole family together. Cousins, second cousins, great aunts, uncles, from across the globe came to say goodbye a last time. It was a truly beautiful thing, and I am grateful for the kind, loving family I belong to.

A common misconception about death is it always is very sad all the time, and everyone is constantly in mourning. I think for a very long time, there will always be a very sad atmosphere wherever we go. But we are able to remember the good times, the memories, the funny stories. Those are what people forgot about. My grandmother sat and listened with a smile on her face to the many stories about my grandfather, from when he was a small child, when he became head of the family, when he travelled all over the world, preaching our religion to people of all cultures, spreading the message. The hearts he touched, the lives he made different, of them there was many. I regret not spending more time with him, not talking to him as much. I really and truly love him, no matter where he is. He is alive in our hearts, in our memories, and always will be. He always wished us success in our lives, no matter what we did. He was the one with a flair for words in his family, and for that, and many other things, I thank him dearly.