I have no right to grieve. I am being selfish. They are in a better place than me.
Still, I walk out into the water and hope. Standing there, the water feels warm. I could dive in and go to them. Join Satish and my girl wherever they are. But I cannot, Pam needs me.
We came to Ireland to identify the bodies they found, but decided to spend the day by the coast where the plane went down. The Irish are good people. They hug us, shed their tears with us, give us flowers, and comfort us. Satish was one of the people they found.
I walk back towards where Shaila is standing. Poor, Shaila. She has lost her whole family, and husband and two sons. I don't know how she has stayed to calm through all of this. Shaila has brought things for her boys, and a poem for her husband. I have brought hope and despair. Why does God give us so much if all along he intends to take it away?
How does one describe how they feel? The greif is so overwhelming when you lose someone you love so much. To lose someone you planned your life with is reason to want to die. To lose a child is unbearable. Why did good people have to die? Why does someone so innocent and beautiful have to be taken away from us? I have so many questions, and no answers.
"The water felt warm, Shaila," I tell her.
"You can't," she says. "We have to wait for our turn to come."
She is right. I know she is right. My swami tells me depression is a sign of selfishness. That I should not grieve, but rejoice for they are in a better place. Perhaps I am being selfish.
Still, I look out at the waters and hope. I hope to see my love walking back to me with girl holding his hand. I hope to hear a song.
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