On loss, changes and adapting to them

Isn't life a series of painful losses? We lose some people to death and some people to life (misunderstandings, ego, destiny). 

The more we love a person, the more the loss affects us. The pain becomes so unbearable at times that life seems like a merciless struggle to cope up with the losses that life throws at us in the most unexpected times. 

Yes, there are gains too. There are blissful moments of togetherness and love when we laugh so loudly that tears roll down our eyes.

There are cuddles that are so tight that the feeling lingers on long after. Within the blinking of eyes, those moments become memories of beautiful moments spend with our loved ones. And I believe only those memories prevent us from drowning in the sea of life. We stay afloat, clinging to the memories in our heart and believing that our loved ones are there with us, even if we can't see them. We can still feel them even when they are not around. 

Life is unpredictable and changes are an uninvited visitor 

Last month, my life changed completely as I lost someone whom I had loved more than my mother. In fact, she was the mother figure of my life. My grandmother, my darling Dida, who had loved me unconditionally and had raised me after my mother passed away when I was twelve. She was my mom, my granny, my sister and my best friend. Yes, she played all these roles in my life with deftness. And losing her was like losing a huge piece of my heart. 

The only consolation that I could give myself was that she got relief from the unbearable pain. It was arduous to see her every day writhing in pain in front of my eyes. She suffered for one whole month. She had a brain stroke. It was heart wrenching to see her battling with the loss of memory and tremendous pain due to secondary infections. She was at home for the last 14 days and I feel blessed that I could care for her like a baby. I got the chance to mother her for those 14 days. 

My grandmother was a very fit lady who did all her tasks herself. She made tea for me whenever she made tea for herself. Last year, she went with Dad and me on a trip to Darjeeling. The manager of our hotel was surprised to see an old lady like her bubbling with enthusiasm. Despite getting much less than what she deserved in life, she was so full of life. She was the epitome of goodness and cheerfulness. 

Adapting to changes because life goes on...

Now when I have to spend every single day of my life without this magical person who was my mother, grandmother, best friend, and sister rolled into one, I feel lonely beyond words. When I lost my mother, I had a mother figure in my life. But with the loss of Dida, I am completely motherless in this huge world. 

There are days when I cry, scream and feel that I can't take it anymore. But thankfully my habit of writing saves me in those times. I record all the beautiful memories with Dida in my journal. It feels great to relive those moments in the white pages on those dark nights. I am planning to start a memoir section on my blog too. 

We, human beings are great at adapting to changes. No matter how painful the change is, we ultimately find a way to adapt and start again. And when I get drowned in the overwhelming emotions, I feel Dida is telling me how much she misses that twinkling smile on my face. She hated my tears and always blackmailed me emotionally by crying more than I cried. 

This is the last picture that I had clicked with Dida before she had the stroke. It was taken in March, this year and how crazily we were laughing our hearts out that day. I had no idea that after two months, I will be writing this post about losing her.

Dear Dida, 

My moonshine,

I will always look for you

In the starry nights,

In the goodness of the world;

I will always feel you

In the autumn breeze,

The cardigan you had woven for me;

I will always remember you

While having tea, 

And listening to old Bengali songs.

I will always miss you,

Cherish you, admire you

And love you!