:: On life, and the inevitability of its ending ::

What is there left to say when life seems to crumble down in ways you never thought would be possible? Now, after more than a week, I finally turn to this space where I find comfort once I get down the words. Not that I feel capable of finding them.

Yesterday my youngest brother, who gets married in a few days wanted to comfort me, wisely sending me that death is an inevitable part of life. While I think that’s true, at least for our beloved family dog that we had to put to sleep yesterday, it is also cruel and rude an the biggest lie ever when it comes to a 15-year-old student that did not survive an accident last week.

He was one of my students. Statistics came way too close. It has been a week of disbelief, of trying to support his grieving classmates, giving other students the time they needed to come and write a word for the family. The death of a peer makes them feel so incredibly vulnerable. Makes us all veel so very vulnerable.
I did not know the boy well. I had only seen him for two hours a week in my class. That doesn’t matter. He feels like one of mine, like he did for the colleagues who did know him well. It’s my teacher’s heart that bleeds. My mother’s heart that bleeds.

So no, little brother of mine. There, you are wrong. Death is not and will never be a part of the life of a 15-year-old that crosses the street at night. It’s just the ugliest case of bad luck ever and something that does not ring true, that does not makes sense in any possible way.

Today, I spent the day at home. Feeling sad and exhausted. The sound of the washing machine makes it as if our little furry friend is still with us. Harsh truth there too: she isn’t. It’s but a picture and some memories of going through her ever shedding hair, feeling the warmth of her body, the beating of her heart.

While her death was way more anticipated than the one of my student, it also hurts. And she is missed in all the little ways a family pet can be…

Author: Elvira

Woman, wife, mother. Trying to slow down and take the time to listen.

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