The 8th of May was my father’s third death anniversary. He died at the rich age of 83, in the year of COVID. I could not travel to see him or attend his burial. It was another month before I could be with my mother and sister. The trauma of losing him was amplified by the pain and guilt of not making it to his bedside.
His death was sudden in a way, his condition deteriorated overnight and he was gone by 5 AM the next day. I remember the moment the call came from my mother. I knew from my husband’s face that my father’s story in this lifetime had ended.
It took me a long time to get over the guilt and shame of not being with my father and family despite the situation in 2021. I questioned my love for him and my courage. I chose practicality over love. The self-condemnation was stronger than the rational mind. Though friends and my mother comforted me and tried to ease my guilt, it stayed raw and sharp for many months.
At this time, a good friend also lost his 40-year-old sister to cancer. We called each other and shared stories of our lost dear ones. One night, I dreamed of a beautiful field, at the centre of which was a lady in a salwar suit, radiant, serene, and smiling. Instinctively, I knew it was my friend’s sister. In the vision, she told me she was fine, peaceful, free of pain, and happy. I shared this with my friend. And I cried because my father would not come in my dreams.
But he did come, after many months. In that dream, all the family members were around a big tree, picking fruit, laughing, and playing around. And my father was standing in the sunlight, smiling.
What is the point of this story?
I don’t have an answer except that I feel nostalgic and sad. Perhaps I want to remember and honour the pain of losing loved ones. Irrespective of our relationship with them while they are living, dealing with the permanence of death is hard.
My father lived a full life, without regrets, by his admission. For some time, he had been saying that he was ready to go … and so he went … quickly, the way he always wanted. I guess the memory also reminds me of the blessings that were part of this experience.
Or perhaps, I share only to remember.
To all of you, who have lost a loved one, I send you love, care, and the warm embrace of time.