Grief stained tissues

Carelessly strewn onto the seats of the columbarium hall were used tissues. 

Some were balled tightly into small rounded blobs taking after the shape of the palm it was clenched in. 

Others were crumpled haphazardly into loose balls. 

Then there were some others folded into neat little squares to better dab into corners of eyes. 

To the eyes of others, they were only a pile of waste and there was nothing wrapped in those tissues. But yet, standing there in the hall and sharing the grief with my cousins, aunties and uncles, they held much. 

Within, it held the weight of sadness and sorrow. Invisible to the naked eye, the tissues contained grief that overflowed from the soul. 

They contained the anguish of the people left behind, and the fears and uncertainty of how life will become in the absence of their loved one. 

They contained regret. Of the things that were not yet done, and the reality that there was no longer any time left to complete it.

They contained whispers of unspoken words never to be shared. Of remembrance and how life was like when my aunty was still around. 

Held within, were the tears of yearning, of denial, and of the intense pain of loss. 

 

The intricacies of grief are hard to describe. 

With layers of sadness wrapped one upon another, upon another, they transcend all words into these tears of heart wrenching and flesh cutting ache. 

If grief had colours, that pile of discarded tissues would be stained with shades of greys and blues and muted yellows.

Different people handle grief differently. Some with stoicism, standing strong and silent in a corner. Some wallow openly with red swollen eyes and tears streaming down their faces. Then there were some gripped with utter despair and fear, and had to be supported by concerned family members in a corner. 

We all stood there watching as the coffin rolled slowly into the chamber.  The closing of the door signified the end of my last walk with her. But for my cousins and uncle, it was the beginning of life without their mother and spouse. 

While the pile of tissues could be discarded at the end of the day, the emotions that it contained cannot. Grief and loss will linger on and as reality settles into the days ahead, life in the following weeks and months will be difficult. 

In all his stoicism, my cousin had told me “I am fine. I am fine. As long as you don’t mention her, I will be ok.”

But you don’t have to be ok. 

And you don’t have to be fine. 

You can wail and cry, and shout and laugh. 

You can miss her loudly. 

You can miss her quietly. 

And no matter how hard things may seem right now, there will come a day when that stabbing pain in your heart will ebb away, and the ability to smile through the memories of her will return.  

Till then, my thoughts are with you.