Lessons on lessons on lessons

Hello, dear friends, I’m back. 

So much has happened. As most of you already know, my dear uncle has passed away… 

Let’s talk about grief… my personal experience with death… 

In my life, I have had four major deaths, and with each one, a new set of tools unlocked within me.

Of course, it has to do with my age, my level of maturity, and the circumstances that surround each occurrence. 

First loss:

At the tender age of 12 or 13, I experienced the sudden death of my absolute favorite person. Overwhelmed by anger and abandonment, I distanced myself from any thoughts or memories associated with him. For years, I carried a sense of resentment, how could he? 

Until one day, a powerful realization struck me. I can’t even remember how or if something happened, I just remember that I was ready to let go of the heavy weight in my heart. I forgave him and released the pent-up emotions that had held me captive. I remember writing down, “I forgive you, you can come to me now”. I would let frustration and anger eat at me whenever he’d visit me in a dream, but this time, I wanted him to come, I missed him. This first encounter with grief taught me the importance of forgiveness and the gradual healing that comes from acknowledging and accepting the pain. 

Second loss:

The passing of one of my closest friends who battled cancer presented a different set of circumstances when I was 18. We knew the end was near, our last moments together were filled with bittersweet memories. Initially, I refrained from openly grieving, masking my pain with a smile. I only cried the moment I received the news, and never again for months. It was only when my psychology teacher noticed my facade that I began confronting the grief (months later). Through guidance and support, I learned to face my emotions head-on, allowing myself to mourn and honor my friend’s memory. This experience taught me the significance of embracing vulnerability and seeking support during times of loss. It taught me that I tend to compartmentalize and avoid vulnerability, thinking that this way I’d be “strong” and “okay”. (we already talked about this, yes.)

Third loss:

The death of my lovely lovely aunt, also from cancer, shook me to the core. Despite being aware of her impending passing, the pain felt overwhelming, accompanied by guilt and unanswered questions. I had allowed trivial disagreements to create a rift between her son and me before she passed, when she was still in the hospital. And when she finally departed, guilt ate at me, I felt her disappointment in me. I battled a battle on my own, not knowing how to fix things with her son. Only months later, I confronted my guilt by reconnecting with him. I apologized to him, but in my mind, my apology was to my dear aunt. And with sharing our grief, finding solace in our shared memories, laughter and tears, I could feel the weight slowly lifting. And again, it took months but this loss taught me the healing power of open communication.

Fourth loss:

A few days ago… 

The recent death of my beloved uncle presented a harrowing ordeal. Consumed by denial and desperate to prevent his passing, I grappled with overwhelming emotions. The experience of losing my mind and desperately clinging to hope highlighted the extent to which grief can affect our rationality. I just knew, in my heart, that this death would break me to pieces. As his health began to deteriorate, my mental state followed. 

I was out of town, away from my family. And with every text/call from any member I would break down. But still, I was in complete denial. I spent two whole days crying, two whole days in a state of anger. He is one of the strongest people I have ever known, he cannot, he will not… die.  I could’ve taken a flight back home at any moment, but to me, that would mean I’m allowing the death to happen. And funny enough, a few hours after my arrival, the death did happen. 

I took a nap on my flight back home, and guess who came to me? He did. Looking young, healthy and content. He told me he was happy, he was finally free of his illness. I cried tears of joy in my dream. It offered solace and washed me with a form of acceptance that I, to this day, don’t understand. 

I genuinely thought I would lose my ability to breathe, but instead, I feel a sense of peace that HELPS me breathe. Though the pain of missing him remains, I find comfort in knowing that he is finally released from suffering. He is happy.

الله يرحمهم جميعًا والحمدلله على كل حال

I love each and every one of them with every speck of my being. Their memory is with me always and forever.

See you again soon, dearests,

FFB