Flames in the Face of Loss
As the school year began, I found myself consistently reaching for my phone to call my grandmother on my way to class, text her a picture of my new room, or listen to the usual voice message she would send me every afternoon to ask about my day. But this year, that integral part of my regular routine was missing; my grandmother passed away this summer, leaving my walks to class and my very being with a gaping hole.
I felt alone in my experience, in my grief, and every time I was asked: “how was your summer?” I was reminded of the pain it brought me and my family. But I know now that I am not alone. And if you feel the way I do, know that you are not alone either. An estimated 23 to 30 percent of college students have experienced the loss of a loved one in the past year. Talking about my grandmother is still difficult for me, but I write about my experience of grieving to highlight the prevalence of loss on college campuses in the hopes that it becomes easier to talk about openly.
I began to rethink the way I framed my grandmother’s passing as we held a vote to decide the theme for this issue. The options were “Fire” or “Loss”. I voted for “Loss”, even though I felt uncomfortable talking about it at the time, because it spoke to one of the predominant feelings swirling around in my mind. But, as you can tell by the cover of this magazine, “Fire” was chosen, and I was left drawing a blank. All I could seem to think about was the loss of my grandmother, and fire, although not quite the opposite, brought to mind warmth and comfort. I began to think more about the theme and tried to reframe the sense of loss I was feeling into one that emphasized all of the positive impacts my grandmother had on my life, not simply the fact that she had passed away. I thought of the pendant that hangs around my neck, one of a little girl with my name on the back. My cousins have their own pendants with their names as well, each of which we separated from a necklace our grandmother used to wear. I began to think of the pendant as a physical manifestation of the flame that each of us holds with the memory of those who have impacted us. Before my grandmother passed away, her presence was a flame in my life, comforting and supporting me, maintained by our phone calls and our times together. When she was with us, she maintained the flame of her memory in my mind. But, when she passed away, all I could envision was a void once filled by her presence. Now I maintain her flame by thinking about the memories we shared, just as my family and friends do the same with their own memories of my grandmother.
The feeling that there is a flame in which I once saw an empty void has helped me think more about the incredibly formative role my grandmother has had in my life.
Oftentimes, the flame brings waves of grief and longing along with it. But the feeling that there is a flame in which I once saw an empty void has helped me think more about the incredibly formative role my grandmother has had in my life, not just that she is no longer physically with me. This grief can often feel overwhelming, like a wave washing over us. But the flame still burns, the memories don’t fade, and bonds you created are not erased.
We often think of our college years as ones of growth and new experiences, ones in which we make friends that last a lifetime, refine our interests and discover what impact we want to make in the world. These connotations we associate with the ‘coming of age’ often make it difficult to confront the hard and painful new experiences that come with growing up, and they can’t be ignored. We can, however, change the ways in which we think about them.
As I think of my grandmother’s flame I keep with me, I think about the Buddhist quote that reads: “Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened.” Each person my grandmother has touched holds a flame with them, and although the sadness of losing her remains, I don’t feel alone. We each carry the flames of our loved ones, just as they carry ours. And in the darkness of grief, a light continues to shine, reminding us of the memories and the people who made us who we are.