865 days since my cousin, who was like a big sister to me, passed away but it feels like it was just yesterday.
I still can't forget the morning of June 7th. I woke up to my little sister's message saying that our cousin already left the realms of humanity. I pinched myself hard enough wishing it was just a dream - that I was just reading the message in my dream and nothing was real; but it was real. There's no coming back.
I never had the chance to visit her at the hospital because of COVID restrictions and my workmate recently tested positive during that time, so all of us who shared the same room with him had to self-quarantine. Now, I wish I could turn back time to visit her while she was still alive and bring her the burger that she was craving.
Well, time did not heal my grief. Although I worked my way around it, I still find myself tearing up from time to time because I miss her. We planned so many things and all of them were never realized. Those were simple things like eating out at the newly opened restaurant, and going to local places we've never been. I think grief is also about mourning the things we could've done together.
Before all this sadness, I had anger. I was angry at her for not telling anyone about her diagnosis that she knew a few years back. I was angry at myself because when she showed signs that she was sick, I was not stubborn enough to annoy her into telling me what's wrong. And most importantly, I was angry at cancer. Out of everyone, why would it strike someone who carries her family's burdens, who had big hopes and dreams of a comfortable future. In all honesty, I would trade my life for hers. I was raised in a comfortable, privileged life. No was relying on me and I didn't have any plans for the future. I was empty and numb. But that's not possible.
I scratch my brain asking the reasons why. I even dreamt of her but all I heard was her laughter and a hint of secrecy. Somehow, it felt like she wanted to get away from the pressure and responsibilities that was put on her shoulders and that was her one-way out. If this is true, I couldn't, and wouldn't blame her for that.
What weight is my grief and anger compared to the suffering that she endured since her childhood?
Maybe, just maybe, it's true that all things happen for a reason and that things will surely work together for good. Once I saw things beyond grief and anger, I found comfort in knowing her suffering has come to an end.