On grief

We all react differently to death.

Shock. I went to the funeral…not many people were there.

Grief. I knew him when he was young…he was the nicest guy I knew.

Sadness. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few years…I don’t know why we drifted apart.

Denial. I don’t believe it…it can’t be true.

 

We mourn in our own ways. But as a community.

We heal past wounds.

Forgive those we had not. Humble ourselves.

Death reminds us how to be human. To need one another.

 

There are some things you just don’t do.

Never tell someone without making sure they are safe. Never at night.

If there’s a memorial, you go. It doesn’t matter how well you knew them. When you last spoke.

We show up for each other.

We don’t have life insurance, we have each other.

 

We mourn as a community.

 

As a community. One less.

We mourn.

 

RIP my friend

on community loss #RIP

My community is what drives everything that I do, and what gives me purpose and guides my academic work. I define and redefine community continuously, as life requires it.

Those we have lost as a community, are the ones that I remember. The ones I carry with me each day, the ones that I think of when I feel like giving up and giving in. There are days when I mourn their loss. But more often there are days when I remember their lives, their smiles, their joy, their beauty, and their unfulfilled dreams. No one is brought to this earth without purpose. And no one leaves without fulfilling it.

So I get through the struggle and keep on keeping on, because I know that their lives meant more than their deaths. I remember them. I honour their memories the only way I am able. I write for them and I know that they are watching over us guiding our community.

Rest in Power. Peace be with you all.

**Please be warned some of these stories are graphic, may be triggering and all of them contain details about their deaths.

Melake Worku and Ahmed Mohamed

Alex “Rambo” Isaac

Nahom Tsehaie Berhane

Tsige

 

Russom Yordanos and child

Amleset Haile