Drama: May 07, 2014 Issue [#6309] |
Drama
This week: The Loss of a Loved One Edited by: NaNoKit More Newsletters By This Editor
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It is difficult - perhaps even impossible - to describe what the loss of a loved one truly feels like. Sadly, we don't really have to, as it's something we'll all experience sooner or later.
This week's Drama Newsletter is dedicated to all those who are missing loved ones, and to my grandfather...
kittiara |
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On Wednesday morning, the phone rang. After the usual greetings, the woman on the other end of the line spoke the words no person ever wants to hear - “I'm afraid I have some bad news.” The bad news was that at 07:20 that morning my grandfather had passed away.
Have you ever just sat there, with a blank screen or piece of paper before you, and so many thoughts roaming around your mind that you cannot make sense of the chaos, let alone write anything down? Or perhaps all is silent, so you're drawing a blank. Either which way, you cannot write, or, at least, you cannot write what you were planning on. I've faced that scenario many times over the past years, and I am facing it now. One way of overcoming it, I've found, is to simply write. Write something, anything. No matter the silence, no matter the chaos, the words are there, and once you make yourself type or scribble, soon enough they will begin to flow.
Of course, today, I know what is blocking me from writing a Drama Newsletter. I'm still trying to come to terms with the loss of my grandfather. The funeral is tomorrow, and I cannot even be there, as it's in another country, and I couldn't make arrangements quickly enough to be able to attend.
All I can do, then, is tell you about a man who isn't easily defined. If he were a fictional character, some would see him as the villain, and some would class him as a hero. Like most of us, I guess he was somewhere right in the middle of those. He was definitely a man who inspired me and who touched many lives around the world.
At the end of the Second World War, my grandfather spent time in a prison camp. He was only a child. His experiences during the war heavily affected him, and when he married my grandmother at a young age, he wasn't the best husband, nor a good father. Eventually, he fell in love with another woman, and the marriage broke up. His life spiraled out of control, until, one day, he had a religious experience and this gave him the faith and will and determination to get back on track.
He married the other lady – a wonderful woman he spent the rest of his life with, and who I see as a grandmother as well – and they dedicated the last 40 years to helping others. The poor, those in need, people in their own country and around the globe, regardless of faith, background or romantic preferences. They never received money for this. It's something they did out of faith and an inner drive to help. They visited the elderly, the ill, and my grandfather sat with the dying – again, regardless of faith – people who needed someone to be there during their final hours.
I only came to know my grandfather later on in life. One day, after yet another futile online search for my biological father, I typed in the name of my grandfather and there he was. Earlier searches had come up empty, but now there was a website, with contact details. It was scary to get in touch. It took me ages to write that first email, and I edited and edited it again before sending it. That first, tentative contact between us wasn't easy; there was a whole lot of history to overcome. It was a history that I wasn't a part of, as it happened before I was born, but it was lurking right underneath the surface. There were stories I'd been told. There were questions I didn't dare to ask. I sensed a good amount of caution from his end. Despite all that, we persevered.
Slowly, we established a connection. Sometimes history would be dragged into the here and now, mostly because of other family members. There were misunderstandings and occasional hurt feelings on both ends, and yet, I began to care about him and he began to care about me. He was my grandfather and I was his granddaughter.
About two years ago, I met him in person for the first and, sadly, the only time. Yes, it was awkward, but it was nice as well, and towards the end of my few days there we both relaxed with the other. I am very grateful that I had that opportunity.
Shortly afterwards, some of my family members tried to force me to choose between them and my grandfather and his wife. I refused. This led to several family members severing ties with me – a situation that lasts to this day – but I couldn't have done anything different to what I did. I couldn't choose between people I love, so some chose for me.
By that time, my grandfather's health was already deteriorating. He'd suffered several heart attacks over the years, as well as a stroke. He had diabetes, Parkinson's, and he was pretty much confined to a wheelchair. Despite this, he continued his work, right until the end.
I feel blessed that I've had those years with him. Of course, we missed out on some three decades together and I would have liked to see him again, but at least we had what we had, and we'd managed to form a bond, and that's something.
I will miss him. I will miss hearing his voice. The way he'd greet me with, “Hello, young lady.” All the support and advice he offered me – he always had a refreshing, no-nonsense approach.
In literature, TV series and movies we seek out drama and experience certain emotions through the ups and downs faced by beloved characters. Yet nothing can compare with reality. Even when writing about a person, you can never fully get across what they were like, what their lives were like, the richness of the details and the many layers of a human being. Somewhere along the line, the readers' imagination has to fill in the blanks. Perhaps that is as it ought to be.
Likewise, to describe what loss feels like is nearly impossible. Sadly, I don't have to, as it's something we all have to go through sooner or later.
So, I hope you can understand why I needed to dedicate this week's Drama Newsletter to my grandfather, and to all of you who are missing loved ones. I hope that, like me, you have many good memories to cherish.
kittiara |
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