Losing a Loved One Essay Example
That had been a normal day. Sometimes, the mixture of sounds and noise from the streets echoed in every corner of this narrow alley. There was a ring of the church bell, the noise of motorbikes’ engines kept roaring, and somewhere I can hear the usual call from some little street food vending bikes with the old cassettes played every 10 seconds. It was a picture of daily life in this city. My house locates here, peacefully, contrasting with the speed of the life outside.
- Honey, packing your clothes quickly. We need to fly to grandparents’ house.
My grandmother passed away a few minutes ago. That was a big scratch to the picture. It was peculiarly silent. I could not completely remember my emotion when I heard that news. My mother was crying. My father was in a hurry. I felt like it did not need any word out. We were all feeling hurt.
About 1071 miles is the distance between Ho Chi Minh City and Hai Phong – a major industrial city in Vietnam, which is also known as my mother’s hometown. At that moment, even 1 mile seemed so far. The airplane can reach the speed from 155 to 178 miles per hour. It is such an incredible evolution of transportation, but everything felt so nonsensically slow that day. We were late anyway. I would not regret it if I had known 2015 was the last time I could see my grandma.
Diabetes started to destroy her.
My grandma was a wonderful woman. She grew up in the middle of the darkest time in Vietnam where starvation and war were as normal as a part of life. That was the time when women were dominated not only by violence but also by retrogressive traditions and inequality. Since being a child, I have heard many times the story of her life. It was a life of lotus. Growing up when I can now literally understand the dogmas in Buddhism, I realize that no matter what happened in the past, I still have to move forward and keep fighting as a symbol of lotus – a symbol of my grandma’s life. Regarding in many cultures, lotus has its meaning differently. As a symbol of enlightenment and purity, lotus will always blossom on the top and show its beauty despite its roots are deep in dirtiest water.
A week after the doctor said my grandma had Type II Diabetes; she had a tumor on her neck. None of us knew what happened. A scarf was a cover as a guarantee paper that said she was fine. Diabetes had risen closer to the final phase. Last day of the two-week annual visit, I did not know that “goodbye grandma” was the last word I could say to her.
There were serenity prayers at the funeral. The visitors came from many social classes: from the manager of an electronics company to the garbage man next door who she helped in the past. They all came in just to say the last goodbye. As an Indian saying: “When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoiced.” I am not the type of person who lives counting on the quotes. However, I can now say I have experienced this saying. It is true.
My mom always teaches me life with Buddhism. She is not superstitious. She just respects that everyone has their own belief. And after all, I realize that I have to accept the lost even if it is painful or not. It is the circle of life, and the balance of the Earth. Sometimes, pain needs to happen so that we can then regard the past and respect the present. Most of the time the past will include the regret, but what happened has its reason. I cannot choose whether that was my pain or not, I just believe that I can make the suffering optional. Although occasionally I regret that I could not be beside my grandma the last time, she is still in my heart. The necklace she gave me is my lucky charm. That will not help me to pass the test or to get away from life trouble every day; however, I make it as my own strength to believe in positivity. I am now trying to pursue my dream of becoming a researcher. I also know that there are numerous expensive prices that my dream will cost. To me, the goal is to live happily and someday become a part of Diabetes treatment research.
I am a person who does believe more in the fact that love is a product after “happy hormones” like oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin working together. Finally, I have learnt that sometimes love is love. It is emotional and simple. I do not have to say I miss her, but I believe she knows. Regret is a lesson to make me better and stronger. At first, I did not want this story to become emotional, which already is. Nonetheless, the first time I wrote this story on paper is also the first time I am honest with myself. My conscience felt remorseful for the past, but also clearer for the present.