About a year or two ago I began to understand that grief is a journey with no real destination. As I get older, I also understand that my grief journey is not a straight line, but more of a spaghetti junction with many loops and curves. There is so much that I am learning about myself through my grief and I am somewhat fascinated by the multiple adventures my mind takes me on while I explore every corner of my existence as an orphan. Today I’d like to briefly talk about how my two-year-old daughter is teaching me about a significant aspect of my grief. Enjoy!
When I was pregnant back in 2018, I naively believed that having a baby would fill the hole I had in my heart; the hole created by the death of my parents. Somehow, I thought that having a child would “make the pain go away” and that my love for my child would sort of erase my longing for my parents. Boy was I sorely mistaken! After I gave birth to my daughter, I quickly understood that expecting her existence to “heal” my pain was not only unfair to her but also unfair to myself. I understood that her existence was never meant to take something away, but rather to bring something new: a love so intense that no words could ever express.
This intense feeling of love I have for my daughter makes me realise just how much my parents must have loved me. It is inconceivable that energy so strong can simply vanish into thin air when a person takes their last breath. It may seem strange, but loving my daughter is making my heart “remember” just how intense it felt to be loved by my parents.
I know for a fact that the love I have for my child will live on after I pass, and that right there is something no one and nothing will ever be able to change. I’ve said this before and I will say it again: when a person dies, their love lives on in the hearts of those they leave behind.