Four weeks ago my beloved grandmother died. Nana was 95 and tired, nothing more, just wanting to be reunited with my equally beloved grandfather on the other side after five years apart. Married for 65 years, theirs was a marriage unparalleled in today’s society, a true eternal love. Today marks their 70 year anniversary; so this post seems a fitting tribute. Two days before she died, Pop visited me in a dream to hang out while he waited for Nan. After a while, since she didn’t come, he hugged me goodbye, a transcendental embrace that left me feeling fulfilled even after I woke. With a busy job like mine, I quickly moved on with my day and thought nothing more of the dream until two days later when I got the crushing news she had passed. I was back in Australia for the funeral a week later.
I wouldn’t be alone to argue that 2016 seems to be a year of death and mortality. Several of my friends have lost loved ones this year – parents and grandparents and siblings – and even more than one. There has also been a number of beloved public figures and celebrities leave this world this year. Over the summer there even seemed to be more terrorist acts claiming lives than in previous years. One notable death that stood out to me earlier this year, that got me thinking about a blog post on the topic, was the passing of a dear childhood father figure and close family friend. That I couldn’t go home to share the family grief and honour his memory was very difficult and upsetting.
Yet these two meaningful deaths, for me, haven’t been sad because of the person dying. Both were deaths I knew were approaching with plenty of time to accept it. No, deep thought on the matter has revealed that these deaths have saddened my inner child. Their passings have closed a lid on my past.
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