Embrace Your Shakti

Being one of the youngest of my cousins, I can’t help feeling that I was born too late. And recently it’s a feeling I can’t quite shake. In the past few years, many of the elders who played a role in my life, have passed on. Leaving me with their memories, and the wisdom they taught me. But I also left with grieving the fact they won’t physically be there for some of the most important events of my life. I know I will always carry the blessings of my elders, but it’s not the same as feeling their warmth on a rainy day. I know they will always be rooting for me, but it won’t be the same as hearing their voice saying “ it will be ok, beta( son)” 

Our elders are the pillars that got our family so far. Even if we didn’t see eye to eye with them. They taught us the art of moving forward in life. To focus on the light, on the days when life felt a little darker than usual. They are our connection to our roots, to our heritage and to our ancestors. I often wonder after the last pillar falls, will their memories be enough to keep the connection alive. Especially when you are born at a time, where parts of family history are no longer spoken off. Somehow this truth is easier to navigate. The more I dwell on this I realize that when the old generation moves on the new generation steps up to the plate of being the pillar. My generation, my cousin’s generation will become the next set of living ancestors. By telling our stories to our kids, nieces and nephews we become that bridge for them. Through the traditions we keep, and the ones we start we prepare the next generation as the previous one did for us. Culture is meant to evolve, just like we do as humans. 

The harder fact to face is the loss of physical presence of our loved ones. At every important family, especially in Indo-Fijian ones, there are different roles each elder plays. Whether it’s the aunt who volunteers to make sweets, or the uncle who uses his handyman skills to get the venue decorations up to par. Whether it’s the uncle that cracks jokes to help release the tension, or the aunt educating your own customs and symbolism behind them. Some of the elders I hold closest to my heart won’t be there when I reach some of the biggest milestones in my life. They missed me walking across the stage and receiving my college degree. They won’t be there to share laughter when the time comes to  tie the knot, nor will they be there when I have my first child. 

I wish there was an easier way to move forward from this kind of pain. But that’s the thing about grief around death. It comes in waves, and never fully dissipates. To some degree it will always be there. I’ve learned the ways we chose to honor the ones who have passed on during these milestones. For one uncle that is wearing a shirt he gifted me during my sister’s wedding. Another uncle is visiting the temple where he taught me how to navigate religion with a disability. It’s these little things that make the biggest difference.

Although the pangs of loss will always be there, the warmth of every loving moment spent with them will lessen the pain day by day.