My dear, how I feared and loathed this day- the day you left us. For the past years, I’ve tried my best not to think about the fact that this dreadful day will come and focus on the present. Usually it was easy, seeing your incomparable zest for life and teenage enthusiasm. As a kid, I convinced myself that you will live forever, that you will outlive all of us… Remember, how we used to joke that you will live to be 110? I was actually confident that you will see your great great grand kid. I believed it with all my being. I was looking forward to going to the sea side with you this summer. You’ve always loved the sea. Remember, how fun it was two summers ago?
My love, no matter how hard I’ve tried, I couldn’t ignore the painful realizations: we are simply passengers on this earth. We all have our time. I hated these gulps of reality. I hated the nights when I had dreams about your passing. Seemed like my subconscious was preparing me for the inevitable. I’ve had them so many times, each morning waking up in tears. There is a saying that if you dream about a person passing, he will live a long life. I’ve always found comfort in those words. You lived a long, eventful, memorable life that anyone would be proud to live, and you shared it with the people that loved you most- your family: your daughter, your grand-daughter and your great grand-daughter. The four musketeers. Sadly, the day we all feared came upon us despite our prayers. I feared this day because I knew in my heart that I won’t be there to say goodbye. And sadly, I was right.
You left in your special manner- in a way you used to do everything- by yourself. You probably didn’t even notice it yourself, let alone inform us. I write these words with immense hardship, but I’m glad that you left like you did: quietly, softly, like a saint. I like to think that you didn’t have anything troubling you; that you were at peace; that you were simply surrendering to time. However, “surrender” is not exactly the right word to use in your case. You were a real trooper, a soldier, a fighter. You didn’t accept pity; you simply didn’t care for it. Even when you were hurting, you kept it to yourself because you didn’t want to trouble us. I’m angry at you for this- you know we would do anything for you. Always.
What makes me sad is the fact that we didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. Nobody did. You left so swiftly, so unexpectedly. I regret that we didn’t get to talk. You may have noticed that I wrote all this in a letter form to you. I realize that you didn’t speak English, but I’m sure you understand every word now. I’m sure you’ve found your peace, that you’re happy and watching us from the nearest cloud. Just remember that we loved, love and will love you always and forever.
All our love,
On the 19th of May, 2014, our beloved grandmother passed away at the age of 95. She will always be remembered and missed. A truly pure spirit.