My Dada passed away early last month.

It was difficult because it was a real person I actually knew, talked to and always saw, just gone.

I had a conversation with one of my cousins a few years back, when my grandfather’s health started to decline. We talked about how death would come and it would be better if it was sooner if less painful rather than dragged out. In his case, it dragged out. Even though I knew he was right and it made so much sense I didn’t want it to be the case. It hurt having his logic be applied to a real person that I knew and loved. It actually made me angry and upset. And that made me more angry. But I cooled pretty quick; it’s life, move on.

I feel like I knew he was going to pass, and soon. I almost never took pictures until recently but I felt the need of having something of him before he was gone. So I took some, I took a video of the family in his room. I’m really Glad I did. He died about a week later.

I was sleeping and the last I remember was my cousin running to my room, waking me and telling me he passed away. It felt like immediately after that my cousin actually woke me up in the same way I dreamt and told me Dada wasn’t breathing. She was crying and I was confused because I just dreamt that, so it can’t be true, at least not right now.

But it was.

We headed over to my aunt’s house pretty much immediately after in the morning. It didn’t seem real; I actually don’t remember how I got there. It’s kind of a blur.

Seeing him was odd too. He was drained of colour but he was right there so I didn’t really want to accept it even though I knew better.

I didn’t touch him, didn’t hold his hand. I didn’t want to feel it at all.

I think the hardest part had to have been seeing everyone else. Everyone crying and trying to keep it together. Everyone confused and regretting not spending more time and not wanting to accept. Wanting to accept but not knowing what to do.

My uncle and dad pretty much took care of the whole process. My grandmother followed instructions, I followed instructions and we did whatever we could to get what the coroner wanted and get the Funeral rolling. It was so weird. The hardest part was moving him out of the house and to the funeral home. It was legit, he was for sure leaving and there wasn’t anything either of us could do.

So bittersweet. None of us wanted him gone but we knew how much pain he was in. Dada was at a point where it just hurt all the time so if anything, this was good for him and I was happy for him.

I’m just glad everyone had a chance to come visit him before he was gone. He had all his sons and his daughter and their families around him before he passed. I’m glad I came back just before it happened. I’m glad his sons were able to come back in time for the funeral too.