On Family, In Sadness

I think I have been swallowing grief for a long time. In the past two years I have seen many people die in my family and the community I keep. I have walked tall despite the sadness death brings and told myself that because I've volunteered to help children manage grief at Camp Comfort I am somehow "ok" with death. I am not even sure what it would mean to be "ok" with something that is hard to grasp. Do I see it as inevitable? Yes, I know we will all die and I believe that there is some kind of reason or meaning for it, but I'm not sure what that is. Today as I walked through the hallway in my family's home, I noticed the pictures on the wall for the first time in a long time. They are faded by the sun and as I scanned the relatives I realized half of those people depicted are gone. They've died and I've lived in a world that doesn't let me feel the impact of their deaths for a long time. The majority of those lost live in Iran and since I don't see them everyday I simply put my head down and continued about my day to day ambitions, disallowing myself to think of them. In my mind and heart they were still a phone call away. I couldn't miss their presence because I didn't have it anyway. But as I looked through what has become a silent memorial to them in the hallway I realized that their homes must feel different, that their kids are now fatherless or motherless. I saw myself sitting in their homes, missing them, wishing for them. The next trip to Iran would feel sad without them, because they are the people I go there to see. I always try to rationalize death, to say that at least that person is not in pain any longer. Now, I selfishly am wondering how it will feel to miss them. My aunt is sick. She has cancer and it has spread rapidly through her body. I continue to say to everyone that she will be fine. She has a strong spirit and yet somewhere in the back of my mind I feel sorrow. I feel that maybe cancer is stronger than all of our spirits. I feel afraid and I wish that I could make her better. I saw her picture on the wall, intermingeled with those of family both alive and past and her face looked antiqued and far away. I suddenly felt 2 years of grief rush over me. I suddenly thought to myself, there is no framework to understand this and I am not "ok" with it. As I sit in my family's home, all alone, I begin to miss my loved ones and I quietly begin to cry. I think to myself that I spend so much time following my ambition and working I have missed so much of their lives. I text my boyfriend and tell him about my aunt, wanting any connection to someone I love in that moment. I reflect on all of our happiness and our joy, past and future, and I think to myself, I hope their memories are always alive. And, while I am crying, I see their bright beautiful faces and hope they can stay immortalized in my heart. I pray not to forget.