The weight of 'what ifs'

Death is nothing else but going home to God; the bond of love will be unbroken for all eternity. --Mother Teresa

It was just over a fortnight when my sister called quite early in the morning to convey the news of my maternal uncle’s death. With tears welling up in my eyes, I was unable to control my grief, though my mind kept telling me that the netherworld is a much better place for him. My uncle Ravi Kumar, a lifelong bachelor and a voracious reader, played a pivotal role during my childhood and teenage years. He impressed me with his knowledge of the English language and his uncanny ability to recollect plots of best-selling novels. 

Being a heart patient, the last few weeks of his life were quite tough. Though I often reached out to him through WhatsApp messages, I postponed talking to him, presuming that death is a reality that can strike only in the distant future. Hence, the news of his passing away was nothing less than a bolt from the blue, a wake-up call to act wisely and empathetically when someone is in pain.

The regret of not speaking to him enveloped me with full force. The anguish and dejection made me shed copious tears. Though my husband constantly comforted me by saying, “Stop imagining an alternative or a more desirable outcome; instead, be grateful for the fact that you and your cousins were able to support him whenever the need arose.” His rationale, however, failed to soothe me. 

Regret, according to me, is the most painful emotion that steadily robs your positive train of thoughts. It is like a leech that sucks away your power to think logically and act rationally. There were a number of ‘what ifs’ that came to my mind when I heard about my uncle’s demise. ‘If I had spoken to him the previous day, would he have died peacefully, or maybe I could have helped him reach a hospital and alleviate his suffering?’. Though I urged myself to walk on the nostalgic lane, reflecting on happy memories, my remorse-ridden mind refused to let go of the probabilities. 

It is rather ironic that after a loved one passes away, we start making a mental wish list of all the things we could have done if the person were alive. Nevertheless, I realised that moving through regret can teach us a lesson or two about making better future choices. In my case, I am extremely grateful for the gentle admonition from friends and family members. They made me understand that grieving and healing will take some time and one should avoid harsh self-criticism of past events. Instead, if we reflect on our feelings and comprehend what it’s teaching us, we can balance remembrance and learn to live meaningfully.