About transience

Nothing is forever. Surely, this is one of the hardest things a human being has to learn on this earth.

Even though I've lost some of the dearest people to me in early years, one never gets used to losing. It's as hard today as it was when I was a kid. Maybe even harder as the 4 year old me never really could anticipate the longing one develops over the years. Now I know that the longing for the hands, the voice, the love of the other person never stops. Sometimes it's a nice memory. Full of warmth and comfort. And then it hits you like a wave: You will never hear this voice again. You will never hold this hand again. You will never laugh together again.
Those are the feelings I get when thinking of my beloved grandfather Walter (died 14 years ago) and grandmother Ida (died 13 years ago).

My birth father died when I was not yet four. The aching I feel when thinking about him is yet a little different. I can't remember his voice or touch. I just cannot do it. I can look at all those pictures and see how happy he was looking at this little baby in his arms (me). I especially love one of the last pictures with us two: Him and me laughing really, really hard.
I'm still fighting like hell to get this laugh back. I may never succeed.

Don't get me wrong. I'm far from being a depressed kind of person. But yet...I seem to be deeper in thought sometimes than others around me. Compared to others in my age I've already known what loss can and must mean.

Yes, it hits you like a wave. A storm. A brick wall. Just keep breathing. You will live. You will live on for the others as well. You will still feel their love. You will know the love they've felt for your even after 25 years or more have gone past. It's nothing to despair about - it is pure and glowing hope.

For a blogger friend who lost her love.