Bonjour, tristesse.

I stumbled some old pictures from my sister’s marriage ceremony at home. It was actually from the morning after, and all my family was there.

I realized how special some shots of my mun and aunties were, my eldest uncle and, last but not least, Mma.

Looking at her so happy, surrounded by her favorite son and all five daughters, listening to music (her favorite activity), made me sad, I still can’t believe that she is not anymore.

I thought about posting the picture here but it is too precious to put out there.

Thing is I grieved her loss. I gave myself the opportunity to cry my eyes dry on her funeral. It was indeed very painful, but I always heard and believed that it was a good thing to do. It is a way for one’s mind to have some sort of closure and move on.

I actually never grieved my father’s death. I guess I was way too naive back then to realize what death was. I still have some flashes from the day it happened. I remember seeing my mum and sisters sob, but I didn’t. And I guess it is okay for a six year old not to. What I also remember is me taking a piece of paper and writing the date on it, thinking that I mustn’t forget the day my father died, as if I ever will… How innocent can a child get?

So I’ve always blamed me not being able to bring him up without crying to the fact that I had never grieved his loss. And I didn’t want to do the same “mistake” while going through another painful loss. So yea, I thought that grieving Mma would help.

Or so I thought.. I wish it was that simple, because I am still not over her, and I don’t think I will be any time soon.

All these thoughts triggered bitter sadness while I was working, I tried to cover up my tears as much as I could not to raise people’s questions.I don’t like talking about it, I’m not sure I even can talk about it. It always gets me.

Mma, I was never ready for you to leave. You were this very respectful woman, a pillar which kept my family standing together for so many years. And the things you sacrificed for them to become what they are is not even imaginable. Your presence only would fill the room with so much greatness. You’ve never been to class but everyone called you an Encyclopedia for all the stories, sayings, riddles, and songs you knew and for how strong your memory was, how good you were in calculus.  You enjoyed singing about the prophet and god I would kill to hear that voice again. You were the most joyful, fearless and funny grandma, you loved music, you made the best food someone can I ever taste, and you loved me. Nothing else interested you in life besides the happiness and well being of your family, no gold, no money, no nothing, and it always surprised me how casual you were about crossing the light. Mma, this is our first Ramadan without you for as long as I can remember, and it hurts, it hurts that it can never be the same ever again.

At least I like to think that she is in heaven right now, resting in peace from life, with my grandfather. This beautiful picture I draw in my mind is quite soothing.

All these emotions adding up to period mood swings and exam’s stress make me this small condensed ball of feelings ready to be triggered at any time.

I sincerely hope that Time will obliviate me, and lightens my pain. It is the only way I can move on with my life.

Mma, I miss you.

From your loving grand daughter,

“A Ylham”


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