Within a span of 2 weeks, 2 deaths occurred.
A human and an animal. Both received tears.
But the grieving had started earlier. When the probable signs showed.
Being Buddhist, I understood death to be a part of life.
The Other Half and I had discussed it when we dated. Facing the statistic that females tended to live longer than males, and that we were the same age, there was a high chance that I would eventually be without him. With that in mind, and because we enjoy each other’s company, it is with great sincerity that I tell others, “I won’t be attending your event as I prefer to spend time with the Other Half”.
Death reminds me that our time is finite, and that the less time spent arguing, the more time we have to enjoy the time together.
An old woman once told me that wisdom and compassion are not given to us; they can only be discovered. The experience of discovery means letting go of what we know. When we move through the terrible transformation of the elements of loss and grief, we may discover the truth of the impermanence of everything in our life, and of course, of this very life itself.
In this way, grief and sorrow may teach us gratitude for what we have been given, even the gift of suffering. From her we learn to swim in the stream of universal sorrow. And in that stream, we may even find joy. For this Buddhist, this is the essence of a liberative practice.A Buddhist Perspective on Grieving” by Roshi Joan Halifax
During the funeral, I wondered if I should be crying a lot more, like others, and since I wasn’t, did it mean that I wasn’t as upset?
Then again, as an introvert, I realised that my most private emotions, like grief, happen internally, away from everyone. Writing it here, in a public space, is my form of dealing with the grief.
Of looking at it, understanding it, putting it away and finding peace.
Every now and then, my peace comes from sending metta to them.