Could I Raise You From The Dead?

based on real events.

12th January, 2023.

I remember, waking up in the late morning, like any other day, not knowing that would be the last day I would see you alive. I got up, saw you sitting on the couch, not even sparing me a glance. You were sick, you were suffering, I was unaware, I didn't pay much mind to what you said, I thought it was just the usual cold you had in the winters, you thought so too. Even you didn't realize how wrong we both were. I could have spent the morning with you. I could forced you to get up and put on warm clothes. I could have forced you to eat. I could have forced you to tell your chest hurt. I could have forced you to admit you coughed blood. I could have saved you. 

Instead, I ignored you. I got angry at you. I called you off. I told you to stop sulking and get better. I left. I went to my friend's house. I enjoyed myself, while you suffered. I enjoyed, I laughed, when your heart was failing. I ignored your problems when you said you didn't feel well. I ignored it when you said you wouldn't be around for long. I hurt you by not staying with you when you needed me the most. I failed you, didn't I? You stayed when I suffered, you held me when I cried, with your wrinkly hands. You were there whenever I needed you, and I failed to be there for you the one time you needed me.

I even slept, like usual, not knowing, this was the last night you had. I wish I had slept with you that night. I wish you hadn't slept alone. I could have noticed the bloody cough, I could have noticed your shallow breaths. I could have noticed you struggling. I could have saved you. I wouldn't have to write this today.

13th January, 2023.

 

I woke up, hearing commotion. I walked up to the living room to see you hooked to a oxygen mask. You were out of breath. You were suffering. I was by your side for only a minute, until they took you to the hospital. I held your hand for the last time, they were cold, disturbingly cold, or were my hands cold? Did my hands go cold seeing you like that? I don't know. I only remember seeing you get taken away, not knowing that would be the last time you ever came home. 

I remember spending my day as usual. Cleaning. Reading. Doing chores. Studying. I remember my brother coming home from the hospital, him telling me you were stable, and that you asked for Dad, your son who was out of town. I remember my brother going to sleep. I remember my brother waking up to the worst news he had ever heard. I remember my brother telling me you passed, at 2:00 PM. 

My world stopped. I cried, more than ever. I couldn't keep it in. I remember feeling a rush of emotions; regret, sadness, pain, grief, all the bad things; things I hadn't felt in a while. You came back, wrapped in a white cloth, unmoving, inside an ambulance. You looked so peaceful. You looked finally at peace. But, I wasn't. I wasn't at peace. I was angry at you. I called out your name. I shook your unmoving body. I did everything I knew, that would start your heart. I desperately called for you to wake up. I tried to raise you from the dead. I tried to bring you back, I really did.

They kept you in a morgue, while the rest of us stayed home. Together, warm, safe. While you lied there, alone with other strangers, cold. Were you scared? Were you cold? You must have been scared, you were afraid of going anywhere without us. You could not even stand the cold. And, there you were, facing your fears, facing death bravely. You were, are, and will be the bravest person I have ever known.

25th July, 2025.

More than two years have passed since the day I lost you. Everybody has seemed to move on, even Mum, who couldn't drink tea in the evening, because you weren't there to accompany her. It seems everybody is okay now, their wounds have healed. But, the wound your absence left in my heart is still gaping, bleeding profusely everyday. I still find myself tearing up whenever I see a grandmother walk with her granddaughter, hand in hand. I feel a burning feeling in my heart, whenever I see kids with their grandparents. It stings, it still hurts. I still cry. I still mourn you. I still pray for your soul in heaven. I know you are in heaven, smiling, looking down at me. I tell myself you are happy now, no longer suffering. I tell myself you are not angry at me. I tell myself you have forgiven me. 

Your death did hurt me, but, it taught me a lot. It taught me, death doesn't creep up and slowly engulfs you, no, death comes and stabs you, taking you to the unknown, in the blink of an eye. You never know when it will come, you never know when it will hit, you just know it will, one day, abruptly putting the life you built to a halt. It also taught me all of us will die. None of us will live forever. All of us will be alone when we die. Death is the only constant in this ever-changing universe. Life is the biggest lie. Your death taught me, some things are irreversible. You can never raise anyone from the dead, no matter how much you try, no matter how many pinky promises of never leaving you make. You can never pry yourself away from the hands of death once it gets hold of you. You will die. Death will get you. And, when it decides to get you, no force in the universe can raise you from it. Your death taught me, we're all gonna die. One day, one person at a time.

You left. You left a gaping wound in my heart. You left without teaching me how to live without you. You left without giving me the chance to tell you, I did it. I did everything I promised I would. You left without giving me a chance to tell me I didn't stop singing. I still sing, only because of you. You left without thinking about me. You left knowing I could never live without you. You left knowing I would miss you everyday. You left knowing I would wish to die, just to meet you, just to see you again. You left knowing I would believe the afterlife, just to see you again, just to hug you again. You left knowing I would do anything to raise you from the dead. You left knowing I hid a piece of thread of the cloth you wore at your funeral, carrying it with me everywhere I go. You left knowing I would forever miss you. You left without sparing me a glance. You just left.

Will I ever move on? Will I ever stop thinking about you? Will this grief ever go away? Will my wound heal?

I hope not. I do not want to forget you. I do not want the grief to go away. I want the grief to say, for, I know grief is love with nowhere to go. Grief is my love for you. I do not want it go away. The love will stay. It always has. It always will. Isn't that what love does? Love endures.

 

I will always find myself thinking about you. I will always do good deeds, just to end up in heaven to be with you, for eternity. I will be happy when death gets me; I will be with you, what more could I possibly want? I will become everything you wanted me to become. I will cherish all the years we spent together. I will cherish your memory, I will love you, forever, through my grief, through my anguish. I will keep you in my heart forever. I will continue to write letters, hoping they end up in heaven, hoping you end up reading them. I will continue to pray for your soul to be happy, to be at peace. 

You are alive. In my head, in my heart, in my mind. Always and forever.

                                                                                                                                                                                                        Love,

                                                                                    Your granddaughter.