Here’s What Happened When I Touched My Grandfather's Dead Body
One fine morning last December, my mom woke me up and told me that my grandfather had passed away due to a heart attack. I couldn’t understand how to process that information. I had many memories with him but I wasn’t sad. From all that I knew of him, he was more affectionate towards his grandsons than his granddaughters. The sole reason behind that is the age-old myth that only boys can take forward the legacy of a family, not girls (I know right? We still struggle with such issues in countries like India).
Nevertheless, he was my grandfather, so I had to go to my hometown to see him one last time. My family and I booked a cab and we took off the very same day. Throughout the journey, everybody kept talking of him by recalling the memories they had with him. They kept saying how he was so fit and fine, and that it was unexpected of him to go so soon. There were times when it would get so silent; I could sense the sadness in that silence but it itched me that I couldn’t feel a thing. I was blank as a sheet and felt like a monster. While everybody was processing my grandfather’s death, I was trying to process my insensitivity to the situation.
The moment we reached, we rushed to the bedroom. He was covered in white sheets. As soon as my father removed the sheets off his face, everybody burst into tears. He was laying there as if having a sound sleep. His left hand rested on his stomach and the fingers were curled up. His right hand laid straight. That was his usual sleeping position, it seemed impossible to not think that he might wake up just the next second.
One by one, everybody bid him farewell by touching his feet or joining their hands. When it was my turn, I walked towards him with absolutely no idea of what I’ll do. I sat down and lifted my hand to touch him. I held his curled-up finger in an attempt to move it, but it didn’t move an inch. I felt like I was touching a cold stone that looked human. That’s’ when my dad told me, with tears in his eyes, “It won’t move anymore, dear, there’s no use.” He thought I missed him, but I couldn’t have explained the state of my mind to anyone.
As soon as I stood up, it struck me that he was actually gone. I realized that I didn’t consider him gone until I had touched him and that was the reason I felt so blank. I mean I still couldn’t shed a tear but I could feel the shock now that truth was right in front of me. I wanted to cry and scream. I wanted him to know that I missed him too, but all I could do was grieve through my thoughts and only thoughts.
I could never say how much I missed him, but I did learn that tears don’t always define your sadness, the state of your mind does.
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