Figment of my imagination

I often wonder if you were just a figment of my imagination, little girl.

I mean, is it even possible that life just went on after you passed. The world didn’t stop like I expected it to. There was no moment of silence or stillness to mourn your loss. Family and friends came by and expressed their condolences after, but somehow it just wasn’t enough. Apart from your janazah, I had hoped for something more to symbolise the fact that you had gone.
Why did no one tell me that life goes on after death, that no one fully shares your loss, even if they are your nearest and dearest. I went about my day as of nothing has changed, and yet, everything had.The three hours it took to bath you was replaced by other things. The worry of your taking in enough calories for the day and not skipping any medication was replaced by end of pregnancy concerns and helping Maryam work through losing you.

Only a month after you passed away did I cry for the first time, and that’s when it hit me that you really were gone.But because of how easily we transitioned from life with you to life without, I wondered if you were really even there to begin with.

And everytime this happens, I see a physical reminder of you. Your photos, videos and blood stains. The countless, empty wound care packaging and medicine containers you left behind. I see the email correspondence between your healthcare providers and I, and the thousands of rands of invoices spent on wound care for you.

And everytime I think you were only part of a beautiful dream, Allah shows me these reminders of you, or brings to mind a memory I had long forgotten and in that moment, I know. I know that you were real. You were present. You were there. And though life before your passing seems so unreal, I know it cannot be, for there are so many things in existence that still reminds me of you.