What is grief, if not love persevering

Thoughts on losing my grandma 3 years ago <3

Yukta Parikh
September 07, 2024

My grandma passed away 3 years ago and the day passed earlier this week. September 4th. I saw the number 444 that day, which I think is a sign from her.

It made me think of the person I was 3 years ago, she wouldn’t recognize me now. We look the same, smile the same, dance the same, but we are not the same.

She was broken, angry, and upset at the world, but hid it well enough. She was making choices that she didn’t know would change the trajectory of her life.

I had just taken the LSAT and started my senior year of college. Life was supposed to be perfect, I was supposed to start my law school applications. Except my grandma was in the hospital and I was miles away. To this day, I still wish I had been there that I had got on a train and went to see her one last time.

My parents told me to stay where I was, no need to stress myself out when classes just started and I had a lot to focus on. So I carried on, or I tried to. I attended her funeral over a video call and cried my eyes out with the camera off. Then I got up and wrote a case brief for a poli sci class I was taking and went to work a shift at the job I had on campus.

That was my first experience with grief, and unfortunately, it won’t be my last.

There’s so much that happened in the three years she’s been gone, and I tell her about all of them. It almost feels like she was here for it all, in some way at least.

Growing up, my grandma lived at my aunt’s house. I spent a lot of time there while my parents worked. It was a place where I could be a kid, not just a crutch for my parents. It was a place where I was free from the violence of my own home. I don’t remember a lot of my childhood, but I remember eating her grilled cheeses and the Indian sweets she would make. I would watch her feed the birds and she would oil my hair and I felt at home.

She was the one constant in the chaos of my childhood. She was the lighthouse guiding me to safety. I miss her every day. She’s the reason I’m here and that I made it out. I could never put into words how much she meant to me. I don’t think I ever will be able to. But I’ll keep on trying anyway.

I’m absolutely crying writing this, but that’s okay. Losing someone you love is painful, but they continue to live on in us. My grandma will live on through me for the rest of my life.

After losing her, I cut off my feelings. I pushed the sadness to the side and focused on school and extracurriculars and getting the most out of my senior year. Then the day would end and I would feel like there was a hole in my chest.

She taught me my times table, she helped me learn to read, she tried to get me to memorize prayers, she was reliable, and she pushed me to work hard. How do you accept that that person is gone and you’ll never hear their voice again?

I don’t know, but the days keep coming, and you can’t drown in place. You have to tread water, you have to take a step, you have to keep moving because the world doesn’t stop when you want it to. It didn’t stop for me. Exams and homework were waiting for me. I had to keep moving.

So I kept moving forward, letting myself cry when I needed to, missing her at every chance, seeing her in the sky, seeing her in the birds, and talking about her. She gave me something I could never lose: her spirit.

❝

What died didn’t stay dead, you’re alive in my head

Taylor Swift, Marjorie

At the time, I couldn’t talk about it. The first time I went to my aunt’s house after her passing, it felt like walking into a room I once knew but would never feel at home in again. I couldn’t even look at her picture on the wall.

The pain of grief doesn’t leave you, but it makes room. It makes a mess but slowly begins to pick up after itself. Allow yourself to make room for the life you still have left to live. Put the memories on a shelf and let them watch over you.

I’ll get older, I’ll move away, I’ll accomplish things she never could, and her love will always be there.