The conversation is more reflective and strange then you would expect it to be!

It was May 2007, and I received the information that my maternal grandfather had just died after a long-standing battle with lung cancer. For his death ceremony and last prayers, the entire extended family — including his grandkids — had all gathered at his home in countryside.

I was 17, and hence was aware of tears, sadness and what death means to the family. But amidst the large gathering, I also saw one of my youngest cousin — probably around 8 years of age — sitting very quietly, trying to make sense of each and everything that was happening around him.

He had been living in the same house with his grandfather and hence shared a closer bond with him than any of the other grandkids. He was not crying but was also not his usual cheerful self. He was very silent, may be even scared, and not able to understand what was happening around him.

I thought I should go talk to him, and hence went and sat by his side. I asked him if he was ok, and if there was anything he would like to talk about. He very curiously and innocently asked me, — “Are they going to burn him or bury him? I have seen both on TV.”

Although I was taken aback by his question, he continued to look at me for the answer. His gaze was fixed at my face and his eyes were not blinking. I sensed that he probably has way too many questions about death because this is something we never talk about with kids. I did not go in detail about how faith and religion work, but whatever I said, he listened with a pretty intense face as if he really wanted to know what was happening.

We talked for not more than 5 minutes, and he asked me a few other questions. After all this conversation, I asked him — “Do you understand what death and all of this means?” He was silent for a brief moment and then very quietly replied, “I know that he is not coming back.”

He had a few tears in his eyes, and I hugged him trying to share his sorrow. I sat with him for some more time, and then got involved with all the other rituals.

When I reflect on that instance, I realize that we often do not understand how hard it must be for a small kid to understand what death is. Kids who cannot even part ways with their toys would now have to let go of their favorite family members with whom they share the closest of bonds.

But in that very instance, I also saw him growing up.

A big part of growing up is acknowledging the fact that often there are unpleasant situations in life, yet we can do nothing about them.

All we can do is to make peace with the situation and learn to let go peacefully and gracefully.

He was sad — and his tears and quiet behavior were a testament to this fact. Yet in that moment, he was growing up —when he realized that his grandfather is not coming back, and he has to make peace with this fact.

As we all grow up, the same is applicable to all of us.

Growing up is about aspirations, and ambitions, and achieving all that we want. But a big part of growing up also means that we acknowledge life situations beyond our control and learn to let go of things peacefully and gracefully.

“Sometimes all you can do is accept there’s not much you can do. And sometimes all you can control is how well you let go of control.” — Lori Deschene

If you like my articles, please do subscribe to my stories and weekly newsletter so that you never miss one!

Follow The Hub Publication for practical tips and inspiring stories.