The Aftermath of Sudden Grief

Life is unpredictable

It is painful. It is numbing. It is also unreal. We all (my family) had expected January to go off on a roaring start and it indeed did. We were really looking forward to my wedding extravaganza and it was expected to be an event to remember. It did. But, not a week had passed and we were taken aback with the sudden, abrupt demise of my aunt and her daughter in a horrible car accident. It's cruel, audacious even, how life chose to unsettle us all in this really unforgettable way.

Life is ironic

One Friday evening. Happiness. Elation. Tremulous excitement. A wedding ceremony at the local mosque.

Next Friday evening. Shock. Grief. Overwhelming Pain. Two funeral prayers at another neighborhood mosque.

It is so ironic that as an extended family, the most trying and testing time for all of us came after our happiest memories. We barely got to see their faces at the funeral. The accident has disfigured their faces and we weren't ready to see them. I guess this is for the better. We've always seen our aunt and our cousin in the liveliest and funniest of moods. To see those faces in the face of death would have undoubtedly haunted us all. It's only plausible that we now keep their best, truest versions in our hearts for life.  

The Grief

The car accident that took away my aunt and her daughter was as twisted as fate itself. The tragedy took away two lives and rendered everyone helpless in the face of destiny. As first news kept arriving and phones kept ringing, it felt surreal to imagine those faces and the voracious laughter we've shared at each meeting. Those excited faces at the wedding, ever so willing for the cameramen, ever so warm and loving with greetings for everyone--everything came alive, vivid in our minds. Death must have been so abrupt, so sudden, taking them away before they knew what hit them. The grief comes in waves, like a torrid ocean on a stormy morning. One moment, 's not there; it seems like a bad, bad dream. Another moment, it's torrential; the grief swallowing you in copious amounts, trying to suffocate you. 

The Coping Mechanism

Shaziani (as we all cousins lovingly addressed her) and Umaina (the beautiful 16-year old cousin we all were in awe of) are most certainly in a better place now. My uncle and the other two daughters are coping in their own way. Some of us have chosen to not talk about the tragedy in graphic detail. And then, there are some of us who are finding peace by talking about the episode in great detail. Almost as if verbal admittance of the tragedy is the only way to come out of denial. The tragedy has us all shook, as a family, extended family, friends and acquaintances. I've realized over the course of the past few weeks that grief has its own language. We all speak to, feed, and placate our griefs in our own separate ways. And there should be no judgement for how we deal with it. Our coping mechanisms are private, and completely our own.

The Aftermath

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is for real, and it is unnerving. We are getting on with our lives, but there's no easy way to cope up with this grief. Almost all of us exhibit symptoms of depression and it is extremely difficult to deal with an entire family that is grieving and crying at odd times of the day. I felt the unfettered urge to pen down my thoughts about the whole episode. I'm sparing everyone all the gory details of accident and also choosing to honor their memory. The aftermath of the entire tragedy is perhaps only going to last a few more months. But the indelible memories and last fleeting glimpses of their smiling and joyous faces/voices will last forever.