10 YEARS ON: NOTES ON GRIEF

Ten years ago on 15th December 2010, my mother died unexpectedly. In 2011, the first year after her death, I did not think I would make it. The pain was too much. Today, on the day of her burial, my family and I held a virtual service to mark her tenth anniversary. How time flies. In the last ten years, as I came to terms with the death of the most important person in my life, these are the five things I can say I know for sure.

1. Sit with your pain: every time a friend whose loved one has died asks me how did you manage, my answer — with great difficulty. If you are grieving someone who mattered to you and I don’t make assumptions about blood ties determining pain, the first year will be excruciating. Sit with your pain. Every year, I light a candle on my Mama’s birthday and on her death anniversary. I dedicate these days to being fully present to her memory. It is these little rituals that helped me find my way through the pain. I sat with it.
2. Grieving is a solitary journey: each person deals with loss in their own way and in their own time. But deal with it you must. I learnt that despite shared loss, I could not necessarily lean on those I shared grief with to get through it. As siblings, we each had individual relationships with my mother and my parents had their relationship. Do not be too angry if people don’t show up in the manner you expect them to. Do not assume they will know what to do if you do not ask. Do not be afraid to reach out to people.
3. Learn to listen: When you decide to offer support, speak less and listen actively. Don’t meet your grieving friends to make them forget their pain. Do not assume that because someone doesn’t walk around inconsolable they are not in pain. Be present.
4. No expiry date on grief: There is an assumption that grieving runs on a schedule. That the pain that accompanies the death of a loved one magically disappears once that time has lapsed. Ten years on, it still matters to me when people say, sorry for your loss. Take your time with grief and find little rituals to get you through it.
5. It does get easier: The pain of loss does not disappear; it morphs into something else. That’s why they say time makes it easier. I am only able to say this ten years on. Yet, there are times when I hit milestones in my life, and I wish Mama was here to celebrate with me. I tear up when people say they knew her and share an anecdote. These are tears of joy catalysed by the power of collective memory. They are a reminder that she mattered to others. They too remember her.

Mama, I am honoured that you chose me as your child. Nind gi kwe