A little more than three weeks and it is as difficult to make room for acceptance as it was the time I heard the news.
It was 6 in the morning and ma was restlessly knocking on my door. With sleepy eyes and no sense of time or place, I got off my bed and opened it. What I heard next was so unbearably heavy that it shook me immensely from within. There was numbness, I remember. I was standing by the door, trying to absorb what I'd just heard while my mind was shaking.. to and fro, to and fro. I felt numbness in my throat, in my arms and in my legs. I felt it reach down through my chest, pausing every sense in me for a while.
It had happened. What we were told by the doctors had actually happened. Three weeks and one more life gone. The life of our family had gone.
I have been trying to find a better way to express how miserably tough it is to understand this ugly level of sadness that we are stuck at and to start learning to deal with life all over again. I have been trying and failing, again and again. Nothing is enough right now, nothing strikes the right cord or perhaps there is no right cord here and I'm just wasting time amidst this oblivion which is hauntingly familiar to me.
Like I've been here before, sailing through it and hunting for days when I was a little girl, when I was far away from this world where people fade into memory with so much ease and when everyone, almost everyone I loved was just.. happy and alive!