Dada, my story-telling, belly-laughing, baskin-robbins-treating grandfather passed away on June 7th. It was the first time I experienced the loss of someone so close to me.
Although it was expected, when I received the call, I panicked. I was angry, sad, and flustered. It was really happening.
Tiana, my little ball of joy, kept me from falling apart. After singing nursery rhymes for an hour, she gave him a kiss, waved, and bid him farewell. “Bye bye, Dada”.
That. Is the definition of “bittersweet”.
As I watched her last moments with Dada, the dots connected…
The very building where Tiana took her first breath, one floor above, my grandfather took his last.
I had 9 months to prepare myself for her arrival and 9 days to prepare myself for Dada’s departure.
In both events, immense pain was followed by a love tsunami.
All the many parallels between birth and death laid out before me in those few seconds. It was then that I realized that I was witnessing something much bigger than the loss of my beloved grandfather.
I was witnessing a miracle.
I was beginning to understand that death can be just as beautiful as birth.
Sure, I have moments where the pain revisits and I bawl like a baby. But, like birth, the focus is not on the pain. The pain is just a tiny part. It’s the process. I finally trust it. I accept it. And I choose to open my heart to the beauty of Dada’s passing.
How does your perspective on death affect the way you cope with losing a loved one?
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I'm Nat Nanton, founder of Tutu Mama. Becoming a mother has made me commit to living my greatest life. If you can relate to that, you're in the right place.
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