Experiencing Loss

My grandfather's 66th death anniversary was a few days ago. My sister and I never met him, but we join our mother in lighting a small lamp in his memory.

A recurring thought on death and bereavement came to mind, perhaps a truism for anyone who has experienced deep personal loss. No matter how empathetic a person you might be, there are two life events that must happen to you to understand what they mean - the arrival of a child and the death of a parent.

My mother lost her father when she was 13. An only child, life wasn't easy for my grandmother and her.

My first conscious memory of knowing that my grandfather wasn't alive is from when I was about 8. My father was away and when I went to my mother for a morning cuddle, I discovered her sobbing in bed. I asked what was wrong and she hugged me and said "just as you miss your Daddy when he's away, I miss my Daddy too."

I remember feeling terribly bad that my mother was upset, but neither then nor at any point until a few years ago did I have any real understanding of the quality of emotion she was feeling.

My father died in June 2015. After the initial period of shock and raw grief passed, and once there was time to reflect, I realised how my mother felt about the loss of her father. And had felt since she was just 13. Now, almost 7 years on from my Dad's death, and with teenage daughters of my own, I realise that she will always carry the pain of the loss of her father, just as I will the loss of mine.

RIP KK Chettur. RIP Ashok Jaitly.