Some of the things I have written here, I wouldn’t have dared to share earlier. I have always confided only in her and no one else. My social awkwardness also came in the way. But in all these years with her, I believe I have changed considerably. She did this sometimes by cajoling, sometimes little loving nudges and other times outright threatening. It all seemed to work. Slowly, bit by bit I started doing things I always struggled with – reaching out to people, letting go and just enjoying life’s little pleasures, and even enjoying food. There were plenty of things that still exasperated her – my mood swings over trivial things, laziness, not calling people, and many more.
It was difficult to keep pace with her though I tried mostly. It goes without saying how difficult last few months have been for me. I realized fairly early that this was something just too big, I needed to be honest with myself and let people know what I am feeling if I wanted them to help . When you are dealing with losing your heart and soul, there are no gains to be had by acting strong. Let me tell you, no one is strong enough for something like this. In our society, it’s considered alright to shout, hug and display affection but we are expected to treat grief without showing emotions. How insane is that?
The intensity of emotions I continue to experience, I have not known to exist within me. And this considering that I’m fairly soft at heart. One of my primary emotional need has been to talk freely about her through this blog. In her absence, I felt desperate to let her know how much I love her, how grateful I’m to her for letting me experience true love and happiness. It gives me assurance that we’re still together. Sometimes my emotions get the better of me and I don’t know what I’m writing but mostly my intent has been to keep her alive for myself, Nishu and all her friends and family whom she loved so much.
I suppose it would have been impossible for anyone who has met her even once to not like her. The love for life and people came effortlessly to her. The care and warmth she showered on people was genuine and came from a selfless heart. She was always on the go,packing a million things in her day. I would often tell her to take it easy but it was a way of life with her. People were calling her all the time asking this or that. She always had answers or would make the effort to find out. Even when my friends would call asking me for something, I would either ask her or ask them to call her directly.
I guess she connected all of us, making friends and family emotionally dependent on her unconsciously. To me and everyone else she was the strong one. When this disease came on, my parents and family told me she would handle it better than me for she was stronger and for the most part she did. If you were feeling down, you only had to call her. There were times I would call her in the middle of my work day because something was bothering me. Mostly I didn’t even tell her the specifics, I just needed to hear her voice and I would feel better. I guess it was the same thing for many friends and family.
And when she would call me, she had multiple conversations going on at the other end. I would give up after a while as my opportunity to be heard came usually after a few attempts. It would drive me crazy but it was always the same thing. Even now thinking about it makes me smile. I cornered her about it once, she just smiled and said “I’m like that, deal with it”. She had amazing energy levels, all brought together by an irresistible enthusiasm for life.
When you live together, there are many such things you take for granted but I still couldn’t help noticing her amazing love for life. It was just too obvious. Wherever she went, she made friends. While in the US, we stayed at Minneapolis for few months one summer. There were an elderly couple next door, when we left, I got a beautifully handwritten letter for her mentioning what a pleasure it was to have us as neighbors. I still have the letter. She touched people.
Remembering everyone’s anniversaries and birthdays were second nature to her. She would simply pick up the phone and call, she was never a big fan of social media. The ongoing joke she had on me was how much I used my phone for calling people. I guess personal touch was important to her, it just came naturally to her personality. She hated what they call ‘selfies’ now. To her it was always about others before self. The only exception to this rule was her birthday. She just loved cutting cakes and celebrating her birthday. This time and every time her birthday comes along, it’s going to be heartbreaking for me but I would still like to do something special on every birthday. I owe it to her.
In the last few months, I have seen people including family have stopped talking about her specially in front of me. I can understand they wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings. But strangely enough , I do want to talk about her. I guess it’s simply because her presence in my life has meant everything to me. I need to keep it alive to survive. I just can’t do without her. I want people to remember her for being the person she was. I believe some people are born just to spread joy and happiness. She certainly did that. Her own life though mercilessly cut short was like a beautiful dream. I believe she lived a life so full and made a positive impact that most people don’t do in a lifetime.
I miss her every passing moment of my life and the path ahead seems impossible. Sometimes I have real doubts if I will manage to survive. If I had a way, I would do anything to get her back but I’m told it’s not possible. Today we are separated by the unknown but I know she can hear me from afar. I want to tell her that our love is timeless. It will survive the ages, and when my time is up, I would be hoping she will be there waiting to show me the ropes on the other side. I have always needed directions and she knows that well.
“Without you in my arms, I feel an emptiness in my soul. I find myself searching the crowds for your face – I know it’s an impossibility, but I cannot help myself”
Musings on a grief journey 