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Until my dear friend A passed away, I only lost people older than me, from my parents’ and my grandparents’ generation. He wasn’t just of my generation, but younger than me, when a tragic accident took him away.
I flipped through Seneca’s letters, looking for what he wrote about grief. The most touching thought I found was in letter XXV of the Hungarian translation. I felt seen.
“Azelőtt sohasem gondoltam arra, hogy ő előttem is meghalhat. Mindig csak az jutott eszembe, hogy ő fiatalabb, sokkal fiatalabb nálam, mintha a végzet betartaná az időrendet. Állandóan gondolkozzunk tehát önmagunknak és mindazoknak a halandó voltáról, akiket szeretünk.”
“I never thought he could die before me. I only had the thought that he was younger, much younger than me. As if destiny would respect the order of birth. Therefore always ponder about the mortality of those you love.”
Related
- My paternal grandpa passed away just days after I was born. My maternal uncle died from alcoholism-related causes when I was in elementary school. My maternal grandpa died when I was in high school. My maternal grandma died when I was in university. My mom died when I was in college. My paternal grandma died in the year of my wedding.
- Only two of my elders made it to my wedding: my dad and his sister, my aunt.
- My husband was just a tad more blessed: both of his parents and his paternal aunt made it to our wedding. Beside his grandparents, he also lost his maternal uncle to alcoholism.
- The way my maternal grandma died remains a stunning example for me of willpower and choice. A year before her death, she had a stroke. She lost her ability to speak, doctors said we must make peace with the situation, because her speech is very unlikely to recover. Later she told us (spoiler :)) that she just knew it wasn’t her time to cripple. So she snuck out during nighttime to the communal bathroom and she tried to use her voice. First, it was just growls and noises, but as she kept forcing it, words started to form. Within a month, noone could tell that she suffered from a stroke. But soon another problem came up: a blockage in her leg. Her left leg started dying and doctors said amputation is inevitable. But she resented the idea to become a burden for us. She only ended up agreeing to the operation because her worsening condition and growing pain meant that she needed assistance from us (mainly my mom) anyways. But she silently decided that she won’t survive the operation. She said her goodbyes before entering the hospital. We nervously laughed it off, don’t be silly, mami, the doctors had very good predictions, everything will be fine! And she indeed woke up without any complication. But then, after a few days, her conditions started to worsen rapidly. She spent a few days unconscious, then she passed away… just like that. Just like she said she would.