Giving Away The Memories

On the 17th floor of my building, lives an old man.

He does not live alone. He stays with his two grown up sons. Their wives. Their kids. It is a big family. There should not be any reason to be lonely. Or feel empty. But I think he does. Every evening when he goes for a walk, I can see it in his eyes. He is lonely and sad. And this feeling has nothing to do with his large family.
He may have a lot of people in his life but the person who mattered the most, his wife, died a few months ago. And ever since, he has not been the same.

We all have different ways of coping with grief. Some cry. Some deal with it with dry eyes. Our ways may be different but we all feel this profound sadness. We all feel a deep emptiness that descends on us when we lose a loved one. This old man I know, does not keep his grief bottled up. He talks about her to people he meets in the elevator, in the park, in the grocery store. He tells us about the wonderful years he had with his wife. His helplessness towards the end of her illness. His relief when he realized she has passed away and was incapable of feeling any more pain. He talks a lot. And sympathetic neighbours, some strangers, some not, listen to this old man's ramble.

Few days back, he called me while I was walking in the park.
"Do you tie your hair?" When I said that I do indeed tie up my short hair occasionally, he handed me a shiny object.
"Keep this then, it will look good on you." I opened my palm to find a rather tacky looking hair clip And I knew. I knew instantly that he has begun the painful process of going through her stuff. Bits of items that were once precious to her. Hair clips. Bags. CDs. Stuff that he will  never use in his life, stuff that perhaps his daughters in law do not want,  he has started handing them over to utter strangers. These things are no longer useful to him. But he can not bear to throw them away.. So he gives them away, hoping some stranger will honour these silly items and somewhere, somehow, his wife's belongings and with them her memories, will live on.

I know I will never use this clip. It is neither pretty nor serviceable. Moreover, it does not even hold any sentimental value for me. What will I do with this? Perhaps I will give it away to my domestic help. Or I will give it to a street kid in need of a hair pin. No matter what I do, I know the lady will live in her husband's mind.

Just because you get rid of something does not mean you lose the memories.

Can't Cry Enough

The loss is irreversible.It also can not be expressed in words. But what hits you the hardest is the finality of the parting. A relationship has ended forever and you are left totally unprepared to handle the impact.

You turn your head to speak to the person and and are stunned to realise he is simply not there. For a moment there is denial. His presence is every where...how come he is not around?The closet is full of his clothes. The bathroom shows his carelessly kept toiletries.. toothbrush, comb..the whole house is a heartache. His slippers. Books. Bags. Journals...

The grief seeps into you. There is a numbing pain and nothing seems to make it better.

The first night is the hardest, you wake up in the middle of the night and stare into darkness.How is it a person who was here just a few hours ago is gone forever?

Never will you hear his voice again. Never hear his foolish jokes. Never be taken aback with his startling laughter. There is something wedged deep in your throat and no amount of swallowing dislodges it.

Regret comes next. There are so many things you wish you had done. You wish you had recorded his voice. Captured more of his images. You wish you had taken that last walk together. Held his hand more often. Wish you could see him just one more time.

As days pass, you reluctantly accept the parting. You realise no matter how hard you pray, how hard you try, you can not bring him back. The part of you that was also a part of him no longer exists.

Mindless activities seem to help. Packing away his stuff. Giving away his possessions. Getting the paperwork done. Painful work that some how takes away a bit of your grief and helps pass the time. There is his big portrait on the wall and people come and tell you how serene he looks in it, how happy. You see it and think you would have preferred him in colour and three dimensions.

But you are polite to your well wishers and you nod without saying anything. You know that though they can never understand your grief, they also feel some pain. He was something to them too.

Life does not stop, and you also move on, picking up pieces. Slowly, ever so slowly, you build a life that no longer has him in it. It is tough but so are you.

Spring comes again. So does summer. Then autumn and winter. As years go by you may no longer think of him everyday. Your ache is no longer constant. You do know one thing deep in your heart though. No matter how many new relationships are now in your life, the precious one that you shared with him,can never be replaced. Ever.