The first time you lost someone close to you was when you were 5years old. Your dad’s grandfather was very much a part of your life and he would treat you with sweeties and put you on his lap. He loved you and he was loved by all due to his loving nature and wonderful heart (your dad takes after him). When he passed after a brief illness at the age of 81 we were all very sad. I remember how you broke down in tears at his funeral, it all becoming a bit too much for you to handle at such a young age. It broke my heart to see you that way and not being able to fix it and make it all better. Loss was and still is something we all have to experience, whether we want to or not.
After Pappa’s passing, you would spontaneously start singing his favourite hymns and start crying while doing so. It warmed my heart that you could express your feelings and show your emotions like that. I hoped at that time that you would always be so free to express what you felt and feel so strongly.
Last year when your Ouma (my mom) passed, you were so extremely brave and sweet. It was a difficult time for me personally and my heart ached for all the “I should have” “I could have” “if only” moments. Once the funeral took place and everyone went on with their lives, we were still adjusting to the new normal of not having Ouma in our lives.
I had found a packet with a few items Ouma had given me before she stopped speaking a week after her funeral and started crying uncontrollably. I had tried to keep my emotions at bay and going thru the motions all while doing what was expected or needed of me until that moment when I lost control of my emotions. The sweetest thing happened at that moment. You came into my room and sat next to me. You said nothing while I was sobbing, you just sat there and rubbed my back. When the sobs subsided you took my hand and just sat next to me. After a little time you got up, got me tissues and water and then left the room.
After a bit you came back into the room and we had this quick conversation;
Seth: Mommy are you ok now?
Me: Yes, thank you love.
Seth: Were you crying about Ouma?
Me: Yes, I think now that everything is done, I realise that everyone’s lives are just continueing as usual, yet we still don’t have Ouma, and it’s sad, and it’s gonna take a while for us all to get use to it.
Seth: You know what I think about death?
Seth: I think when people die, their job here is done. Ouma’s job was to raise you and your sisters to be strong women like she was and to make sure that you guys are all sorted. She did so her job is done.
I remember being in awe of the wisdom of you being only 10 at the time and how much truth, comfort and sincerity those words offered.
Please don’t ever lose your sense of empathy and your wisdom. You are a light in my life, and I am so grateful for you.
Love you always,