On Losses

I'd like to begin my first few posts on what shaped my life. This is why I chose to write on the most personal elements that I hope will help you to get to know me better.

I first experienced loss at the age of 9 as I watched my grandmother being carried to the van as family members mourned over her passing. She was the most kind hearted individual I ever had the chance to live with.

It was 6 in the morning, and I had to be at the school's Sport's Day. I was in the Red Team, determined and motivated to win some medals that day until my parents told me that we needed to stop by the hospital first. My mom said if my grandma was okay, we could go. I still remember this day very clearly and I don't think I would ever want to forget.

The ward was dark, and patients were still fast asleep. It smelled of medicines and rusty water, and in the temperature of autumn in London. Across the hallway, I could see the bright light coming from my grandma's room. We walked through the hallway in silence and when we finally reached her door, I could see that everyone was standing around the room with their heads down. I walked up to my grandma and thought of how peaceful she seemed, then my aunt arrived and as soon as I turned around, she was already on the floor. My uncle came in and he blacked out too. People started to panic and my mom said I should just wait outside.

Outside, my older cousins were all in tears and I had no clue of why and what to say, so I asked "Kenapa kaka nangis?" Nobody answered my question. Next thing I remembered, we were at our aunt's house, and I was told to change into a more appropriate clothing. I observed that day very carefully just to really understand what was going on. When they took my grandma's body to the bathroom, I watched my grandfather cried for the first time. I felt my heart being torn into pieces.

I kissed my grandmother for the last time and I looked at her face for as long as I could, without realising that it was for the last time. Everyone was crying, my aunt passed out over and over again that I lost count. My mom held me as I felt her tears falling on to my head. When they took my grandma to the van, that's when I finally learned that she was never coming back. Everything after this day changed my life.

I lost my grandfather in 2003. After losing his wife, he was never the same. He was impatient, forgetful and out of place. I was at school when they announced that I had to pack my stuff, and that my dad was already waiting at the car park. On that day, I saw my mom fainted for the first time. For a while, it was strange not to hear his voice echoing in our house. For my mom and her siblings, losing both their parents was the sole reason why they became lost. I watched how things fell apart and how chaotic life was for everyone. It was so frustrating growing up in that environment.

My dad lost his father in 2006 on his birthday. Since we moved, we didn't really get to spend a lot of time together but I remembered that he was genuinely kind and loving. We were celebrating my 16th birthday when my aunt called, and my dad had to take an emergency flight from London. The whole day at the funeral, I was mostly quiet as I observed my dad from a distance. This is when I noticed that my dad has a split image of my grandfather and I am ever so glad that he also inherited the same kind of heart.

Growing up without these people was not easy. Having to experience loss at such a young age took so much out of me that I seemed to miss out on the good things. I became gloomy and quiet, and everyday is a battle of this constant fear of hearing another bad news but I also learned to appreciate those around me more. Family is utmost important to me that I would always pick them over friends, love and work. This is also why I am always at home and unlike many, I actually love being at home and not doing anything. I get to spend times with my siblings, and drink coffee with my parents. That alone is enough for me.