I am still recovering from her loss barely two months down the road. Death was like a joke to me until we lost Regina, a great part of my life and a powerful reason why I worked so hard to accommodate her in a more thriving and homely environment. Her death threw me miles far behind my earlier stage of life. It showed me how life meant nothing after loss of a loved one, when there is nothing to glorify, to feel proud about or struggle very much for. It was one moment mental disability would permanently ensue if grieving time was not well handled.
I have lost relatives before, heard and 'understood' the essence of death since childhood. I have also read about events leading to deaths and had visual experiences. In all, death has never been true and justifiable to me as at the death of my sister, Regina. Even the comfort of friends and reassurances were never convincing. A Rastafarian friend, Bongobingiman Gumarutahigwa Ruhinda, sent me an encouraging message, "Our birth is not the beginning nor is death the end. Life continues."
Regina's death was biggest challenge of my life and one to deal with. Despite ever discussing life after death, the death of my sister justified strongly why I needed to understand death best and the life after, to see the situation of my sister, whose life I struggled very hard to save (5 months) and failed. It was such a long time of pain for her, felt by care-givers too.
From the city to the country side where the family lived, I always knew who to find first and build peace and happiness with. That was no longer possible. I chose to turn her bed into mine to experience her spiritual presence. At some point I felt weather very hostel and thought whether it was responsible for the chronic respiratory condition she suffered to died from. I kept on asking myself similar questions and blaming myself for not being home early enough to protect her.
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