Living With Grief – Reconciling to Never Seeing Them Again by Roopa Swaminathan (Part 5)
By Roopa Swaminathan
Author’s Note
Living with Grief is a series of articles on my journey into loss and grief. Life as I knew it upended when I lost two people closest to me in a span of one week in December 2020. As much as those around me – friends and family, art, films, music, and literature – tried to explain the process of grieving, the reality is that the heartbreak I felt was at a level that was/is unimaginable to me.
It was also a time when I had to face some stark realities of life. Time did not lessen my pain. There was/is no end game here – even though many around me want me to ‘suck it up’ and ‘get over it’ and ‘move on’ because my constant grieving affects ‘their mental well-being’. Some 18 months later – I still wake up and go to bed with the same intensity of grief I felt back in December 2020. What has changed, however, is that I’ve learned to live with my loss. I’ve learned to navigate my way through life with grief as a constant.
I wrote this series as a way to handle the many truths that I faced in these past 18 months. I wrote it as a way to heal. But honestly, every single day is still a struggle. But writing has helped. I hope these stark ruminations during the worst week of my life and its aftermath can help you in some small measure.
God Speed.
“Of course, you’ll see them again.”
I hear this a lot. From family, friends, grief and loss groups, therapists, from religious leaders – so far, not one single person has told me that this is the end. That it was all over when my parents died. Or that I would never see them again.
“Maybe you won’t see them the way they were on earth. Their outer bodies are gone. But their spirit – their soul – is still alive. And you will connect with them again.”
“There IS a Heaven. You just need to believe, Roopa, and know that your parents are there and you will be united with them someday.”
“Just because someone dies doesn’t mean their story is over. Their story is over for now. But they’re there…in another world.”
“Forget religion and god and all that. You believe in science, right? Then believe that all we are is matter. Human beings are just matter. Matter changes forms but matter can never be destroyed into nothing. That means your parents are somewhere. It’s not over.”
Basically, everyone tries to comfort me by saying that it’s not over till the fat lady sings. Or however, that saying goes.
In a quest to find peace for my broken heart and find out what comes after – I’ve become a member of multiple loss and grief groups. I attend sessions with near-death experience (NDE) survivors. I’m on multiple support groups on Facebook. I do everything from written chats to audio Zoom sessions to video Google Meets…all to get some support and help in the beginning to soothe my grieving heart to then trying to find some answers about life and death. I devoured what grief survivors said in my initial months of grief. But now – I find that reading too many stories on loss acts as triggers for me and rather than help me – it depresses me. I’m still, very much, a part of the groups but I try and pace myself.
But over the past eighteen-something months since my amma and appa died – what’s remained constant is my desire, the need, to research all I can about the afterlife. Getting others’ take on what they think about what happens when we die opened my eyes to the possibility of what may be out there. I guess it gave me hope when none existed.
Among the most encouraging of all experiences – what those who’ve had near-death experiences (NDEs) have to say about what comes after death has been the most encouraging and heartwarming to me. Sitting in on a talk given by an NDE survivor fills me with so much happiness. Every single one of them talks about having connected and reunited with their lost loved ones in another realm. Almost all of them talk about how much they wanted to stay back in the divine and godly world where they went to when they had their NDE and their reluctance to come back to earth. Many talk about how they were sent back because their life and purpose on earth were not over yet. Almost all of them talk about the deep sense of peace, calm and intense happiness they felt when they were in the other spiritual domain. Again, almost everyone says with certainty – that we will be reunited with the ones we lost.
Because those who died – it was their body that died. Their soul, their inner being – that is still alive. And many say that our loved ones are all around us. Except they’re in a different form. But they’re there. Even if we can’t see them.
Many of my fellow passengers on this journey of loss and grief have also recommended that I talk to a medium. I have not done that yet. I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t believe in mediums or if I’m not ready for what I may or may not find or if I’m just scared of the process. There seems to be an additional level of crazy when it comes to mediums. And I’m not sure if I can handle it just yet.
With ALL of the above, I vacillate between believing and not-believing.
Let’s just say – I WANT TO BELIEVE.
I saw a movie a while back. It’s called I Origins. It’s the story of two scientists. One of the scientists (Ian) falls madly in love with a free-spirited woman called Sofi who believes in another realm and spirits and ghosts. When Ian laughs at what he thinks are unproven esoteric concepts about a so-called other world and other beings – Sofi calls him out for being cynical and thinking only with his logical scientist brain.
The following is a word-for-word dialogue from the movie. Just read it and think about it.
Ian: What’s wrong? I know something’s wrong.
Sofi: You leave me every day to torture little worms?
Ian: We’re not torturing worms, Sofi. If you’re interested we’re modifying organisms. In this case, they happen to be worms. They’re blind. We’re modifying them to have a vision.
Sofi: You can make blind worms see?
Ian: Kinda. I mean we can now. Maybe.
Sofi: You think that’s a good idea?
Ian: Do you think it’s a bad idea?
Sofi: I think it’s dangerous to play God.
Ian: Sofi, I believe in proof. There’s no proof that there is some magical spirit…uhhh…that’s invisible, living above us, right on top of us…
Sofi: How many senses do worms have?
Ian: They have two. Smell and touch. Why?
Sofi: So… they live without any ability to see or even know about light, right? The notion of light to them is unimaginable.
Ian: Yeah.
Sofi: But we humans… we know that light exists. All around them… right on top of them… they cannot sense it. But with a little mutation, they do. Right?
Ian: Correct.
Sofi: So… Doctor Eye… perhaps some humans, rare humans… have mutated to have another sense. A spirited sense. And can perceive a world that is right on top of us… everywhere. Just like the light on these worms.
I think the above dialogue has done more for me in my journey of trying to believe in the possibility of another realm than anything else. The reason I believe the above is because it is rooted in logic and reason. It makes perfect sense. Around us, there are creatures with fewer senses than us humans. So, how can we – I – be so unbelievably arrogant as to think that there may not be more developed creatures with more senses than us? Just because we haven’t found tangible proof for it doesn’t mean it’s not there. Somewhere, a worm is telling another worm that their world is all that exists. That’s because they don’t know any better.
Like, I said before – I WANT TO BELIEVE.
So…yes. This recovery process is long and hard. In the meantime – I listen to everyone. Because it comforts me. Because believing any of the above is so much better than what haunts me on the inside.
Which is…
I will NEVER EVER SEE MY PARENTS AGAIN. NEVER.
I will never see them. I will never hear them. I will never be scolded by my mom for snapping at a distant relative because they said something mean to me. I will never roll my eyes at my Appa who thought – genuinely – that he was the best singer on the planet and would sing loudly every single time the electricity went out. And, my God, the power went out all the time! I will never have amma apply Nivea body lotion or petroleum jelly (for those very cold and dry days) to my almost-as-arid-as-a-desert- back every single night during the winter months in Pune. I will never have my Appa give me head massages when I get migraines. I will never have my Amma knock gently on my bedroom door in the middle of the night and ask for a Saridon or Restyl or Crocin because she just cannot sleep. I will never ask my Amma if my vettai kuzhambu has enough salt. I will never ask Appa to help fill a bank form because the governmental bureaucratic language was like Latin to me.
I will never ever. Not ever.
Or will I…?
