A few weeks ago, my mother’s uncle, Jedo Mohammed, passed away. May Allah have mercy on him and grant him the highest place in Jannah. I considered him a second grandfather figure, and it was one of the hardest news I received this year. Two years ago, his wife, who is also my mother’s direct aunt, Nanna Fatima, passed away. They both passed away while I was/am still abroad. Both are considered family to me since I don’t only consider them as my mother’s uncle and aunt. They are close to the point that we still check on each other even though I am far by distance.

I have many memories with them since I was a child. Including special family occasions and the times we spent summer vacations at my grandfather’s house in our hometown. Jedo Mohammed lived in the same area as my grandfather in the mountains. It is a two-minute walk to Jedo Mohammed’s house. I vividly remember our walks to his home at night, all gathering together while enjoying the summer breeze. I remember when Grandma asked me to take the freshly made bread to him and Nanna Fatima. My grandparents would leave to spend the summer in our hometown, which always included them.

Close Regardless of Distance

They also lived close to my grandparents’ house in Tripoli. Visiting them never needed a special occasion. I remember having random visits to check on them alone or with my mom. I remember them both when they were healthy and when everything was good. Even when I left Libya in 2018, they would call me or ask my mom to pass on their regards whenever they saw her.

During my undergraduate studies in Libya, I used to drive. Whenever I happened to drive close to their house on my way home from university, I would stop by to see them. It was very random, but I loved seeing them. This is how close they were to me. Even though I wasn’t one of their direct grandchildren, they considered me one.

The Weight of Grief

Grieving the loss of loved ones isn’t easy, and everyone deals with it differently. It’s still hard for me to fully accept that Jeddo Mohammed and Nanna Fatima are gone. Just a few months before she passed in 2022, I called her. She told me they were all waiting for me to return home so we could celebrate my master’s graduation. I couldn’t travel to Libya to her funeral due to complications with my visa, and that made everything more complicated. I still think she’s in her house, waiting for my next random visit. Out of habit, I still stop myself from asking my family if Jeddo Mohammed and Nanna Fatima are doing well.

I recently came across a video that said, “There isn’t enough space to talk about grief,” it resonated with me. Grief isn’t often discussed openly. Even though I express my thoughts and emotions through writing, I still find it hard to talk about grief in real life. I’ve always been somewhat cautious about expressing certain feelings—particularly sadness. Grief specifically remains something many experience alone, and it can take its toll on people if not managed and dealt with.

The Unending Journey of Grief

When Nanna Fatima passed two years ago, I was alone, far from home. It was one of the most challenging times for me in France, and knowing her passing was hard. I fought back the urge to cry, trying to be strong. The same thing happened when Jedo Mohammed passed away a few weeks ago, even though I was with my parents. I felt the sadness deeply, but I distanced myself from it, trying not to feel too much at once. I can’t even explain why—maybe it’s just my way of coping, or perhaps it’s the fear of confronting emotions that feel overwhelming. However, while writing this article, I started crying, visiting memory lane, and remembering when everything was fine when both were healthy and with us.

Grief never ends, and I am aware that if I ever go home, I realize it would be difficult since they are no longer there and their house has become empty. It’s not just the loss of their presence, but the loss of a home always filled with warmth and familiarity. I am grateful for all my memories with them, but I cannot help but feel sad that I didn’t get to visit home often and see them.

I hope that by sharing this, I create or possibly open up the space for others to talk about and discuss grief. We all process loss differently, and that’s okay. But what I am learning and still working on is the importance of not suppressing my feelings or pushing them away while grieving.