Grandad: Farewell. 14.04.2012.



The morning of 14th April in 2012, I woke up early and found a beautiful flower had blossomed in my garden. I had just returned to Cornwall from Latvia a few days ago and tried to keep my emotions in balance. STILL believing that I will see him after I come home from graduation and photo exhibition in London. Which felt like a bit torture because my mind was telling something else while my heart was still in a battle with accepting the truth. I did all the nice things - had a nice early morning routine, a walk in Falmouth, cleaned home, ate well and just kind of tried to find joy in small details. This was Friday, after the weekend we start the final semester of uni, and I went for a walk around town. It's easy to say now that I felt this day is going to be a special day, but... I thought it in a different way. The day before I had written a long emotional email how much thankful I am that I chose to be his granddaughter, how much I appreciated what he has done for me and that I love him. I wrote how sad I am that I never have said I LOVE YOU, GRANDPA, but I want that he knows. I thought that today he will read and write me back, little I knew that he will never read it...








It was a beautiful day and I felt so strong that everything is going to be alright, I had a month ahead of me to graduate (and it happened on my birthday!) and 5 years of UK life was coming to an end. But this day had a different turn, it is the day my grandad passed away. In the evening I received a phone call from my mum... All I remember, she was whispering and crying that he is gone. I throw away phone, I didn't pick up it again. For a moment I lost any clear sane feeling, I was trying to think I heard it wrong, but as mum kept on calling, more I understood she said what she said. I burst into tears and couldn't breath myself. I felt confused not understanding these emotions I was feeling, I had never experienced them. How could I if I had never lost anyone so close before (except my pets)? I screamed, I yelled and I cried. Few hours before I had chatted to my friend Alex, and in that blackout-confusion moment I texted him short sentence "he passed away". 

I only can imagine how confused was Alex, not knowing himself how to react to this news what should he say or how to be. I also did not know what I want, what I expect a person to do to help me, but I understood all I needed was somebody to be with me, without saying encouraging words, but just be... and let me express my emotions, let me cry and talk and tell stories and memories about him while I still remember him. Alex was just there, listening to me until I cried so much that it exhausted me and I fell asleep. Later in life, I have been in the opposite situation, in Alex situation, and I felt those emotions of "what should I do? Say?" It's painful both ways.




My mum on the phone was not clear, only from her emotions I understood her reason for the phone call. The reality hurt me, I did not want to accept! I couldn't hide, I couldn't pretend and still imagine, still live in my positive bubble that he will beat cancer. I run upstairs to the big living room with a view of the ocean. Until Alex came in the evening. I sat there imagining I see his soul flying away... up in the sky. Yes, maybe silly, but I needed my fantasy to escape reality and see some kind of beauty in his death. For a moment I couldn't even cry anymore and suddenly my heart and mind was empty, clear white page...  Nothing. Just silence. All of a sudden it felt like a song of violin inside me stopped. It felt like a string of violin broke inside me, and I said: "so, this is how it feels when your childhood goes away?" A strange thought, which I still don't know how to explain, but losing him it felt something was ripped away too early when I had not matured to grasp the meaning of death. 

Later I learnt that it's important for me to let my emotions out and talk, that's why I am doing this, not expecting if anyone reads fully. I am thankful and grateful for Alex being in my life back then. He listened my mumbling untill I was so exhausted from crying that I will never hear his voice... Yes. I remember this day, my emotions, my blackout moment. Some people want to be alone when recieve news as this, some need someone next to them. But what everyone needs is just an emotional support, no words will heal. I fell asleep crying myself into a sleep, but the next morning the same friend came picked me up and took me out for a roadtrip to the nicest beaches in Cornwall.. Laughing helped me and the feeling that somebody cares, only for few moments the reality caught me on our road trip day that I wanted to burst into tears, I did, but I also tried to breath and let this day be a special day in my memory.

Few months later, I learnt that my grandad never read my email, and I experienced a new range of emotions of regret that I never told him. This email I wrote as a letter on a paper, went to his graveyard and read it to him there...














 





















As beautiful as this day was, the next week, the next month and months were diverse, dual, full of emotions. The next week the last semester of uni started, we were gone for a month (spring break) and obviously everybody were excited to chat about their time away, what's new and so on. It was hard for me, I couldn't talk, I often were hidding and ignored people or if somebody asked me "How are you? / How was your break in Latvia?" I burst into tears or walked away. It was hard to deal with emotions and somehow I was not able to tell anybody. Now people write on facebook/instagram their farewells, I didn't and couldn't. Somehow I was afraid and ashamed of my emotions. There were few group tutorials when I just sat in silence and suddenly left the room, crying and breathing heavely. It obviously left people suspicious what has happened, only some time later I told to some and they all were surprised that I was so scared to share it and that I shouldn't keep such emotions away. This is something about British I will always love, they are there for you when you need them, but you gotta speak, share your emotions, and with them I learnt to speak emotional language. 

What happened later is another story or different stories... I moved back to Latvia, maybe the wrong choice, but it happened. I lost track of time and track of my personal life, I didn't find a job in Latvia, I couldn't return to UK, and I was flowing in the air until I decided that's it, I am off on a nomad adventure in Sweden.

My fundraising page is here.


©AntonBelmonte

©AntonBelmonte

©AntonBelmonte
©AntonBelmonte

Thank you <3



Comments