Does it get better??????????

One evening after work, while I sat at the dining table awaiting the completion of my baby’s sterilization process, I sought to alleviate my boredom by browsing Instagram for inspirational content to share on my WhatsApp status. Unexpectedly, I stumbled upon a poignant video of a woman expressing her longing for her mother and revealing the enduring complexities of the grieving process because she expressed how grieving her mother’s passing is not getting better. Her words triggered introspection within me: Will the pain ease with time? Is there a timeline for healing? How will I recognize when I am on the path to emotional recovery?

As this year marks the second anniversary of my sister’s passing, a torrent of questions inundates my thoughts. There are days when the rawness of her absence feels as acute as though it occurred just yesterday, compelling me to seek solace in solitude and tears. Recollections of our final conversation surface on certain days, prompting a yearning to understand why she was taken from us. She exuded goodness, deserving of reveling in shared moments and crafting new memories with us. Instead, I am left with the repository of memories woven from the 34 years we spent together—a bittersweet testament to a life concluded too soon.

There are occasions when I overhear people discussing their sisters—plans to call, hang out, and engage in activities together. In these moments, the reality of my loss hits anew, plunging me back into a sea of sorrow. My spirits dampen, and I crave solitude, desiring to retreat into my own thoughts. Recently, a colleague invited me to her sister’s wedding, and for a brief interlude, I felt content. However, upon returning home, a wave of melancholy washed over me as I reflected on the day. I was reminded of the impossibility of ever celebrating my own sister’s wedding despite the dreams and discussions we once shared about her special day and bridal shower. All those plans shattered due to the cruel hands of destiny, fate, cancer, and Life in general. As I pondered, life remains an enigmatic enigma, unfurling its mysteries in unexpected ways.

Seated amidst my emotions that day, my husband returned home from work, sharing the heartbreaking tale of his co-worker’s son—a 23-year-old sole child. Tragically, he lost his life after taking his girlfriend home, falling victim to a fatal shooting en route. My thoughts lingered on the parents of this young man—what turmoil must have gripped their hearts, what thoughts raced through their minds, and how were they coping with this unfathomable loss? Setting off from home that day, they likely exchanged ordinary goodbyes, oblivious to the cruel twist of fate that would shatter their lives.

In my journey of mourning, I’ve come to understand that grief knows no bounds of time; it’s an enduring process, a lifelong companion. I will never fully overcome the loss nor cease missing my sister profoundly. Despite this, it’s crucial to move forward, a path we all must walk. Grieving is not about forgetting but about finding a way to coexist with our sorrow. Our departed loved ones, although irreplaceable, would want us to embrace life’s ongoing journey. The ache of their absence will never subside, but we must resist being ensnared by melancholy. While the pain of loss may seem isolating, there are countless others who share in this universal experience. Even if our paths never cross, know that I stand in solidarity with you, understanding the depth of your sorrow.

It does not get better: we must learn to live with this pain because we are GRIEVING AND LIVING