The passage of time is a marvellous thing. It allows for so much - healing, growth, fascinating experiences one can only hope to laugh at some time in the future...
Yet what then is time during this season of Covid when everything is either too slow or too fast? Abysmal days are prolonged, excitement seems to end too soon and grief - dear grief. It feels like time drags on its feet.
It's been 6months since the loss of my Yai, and 3months since the loss of my Datok. Death has a different ring and tune to it in these times - mostly because mourning is experienced too differently. You're not allowed to mourn together, because you can't be together.
I anticipated this year to happen as it did. And I thought being prepared would help with the coping process. I was grateful that I was able to be there towards the end, and have no regrets that they were able to depart peacefully. But since then, I don't think I was ever able to properly grief.
Like a robot, I allowed myself to focus on work. Not that it was entirely productive, I don't think. I'm not even certain I was conscious of my own thoughts and feelings at the time. I just continued living like the living do - and operated as I always did.
And so results in the cacophony of deafening alarm bells, as my world starts to spin in a way that leaves me bleak and desolate. I am unfeeling, I simply exist. My emotions and feelings are so caught up in some dimension that has yet to be untapped. I don't really know how to unmask this despite my various attempts.
All I know is I feel immense loss. I miss you both so dearly. I don't think I realised how much I loved you till you were no longer here.
Thinking of you always, my dear Yai and Datok. Thank you for loving me.
xx.
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