It Comes In Threes

I can’t remember exactly when I heard the saying “bad things come in threes”. My earliest memory of this was when my father died in 1996.

My father died.
One.
My sister and I moved to India, and left our mother in America.
Two.
My paternal grandmother got sick - breast cancer and Hepatitis.
Three.

Then as I got older, it felt like the worst things in life had come to pass and that things were really and truly going to be okay. I didn’t have to keep counting the bad things, because they weren’t happening with such frequency. There were significant moments throughout the years. Growing pains, graduations, births, deaths, new jobs, new schools - they never felt quite as impactful as that first set of three.

Then, in 2020, there were three more. I started counting again, because I needed to know that they would stop.

My paternal grandmother died.
One.
A week to the day - my maternal grandmother died.
Two.
A week after my 31st birthday - my grand-uncle died.
Three.

Our family has sustained losses that have moved the earth under our feet. The context of COVID-19 cast a significant shadow over these losses. Early in life, there was movement, relocation, family surrounding us as we navigated these experiences. Now, these networks are video calls, phone calls, letter, social media, and the occasional family gathering after quarantines, testing, and safety measures. There is no travel to India for funerals. There is no hugging and gathering for collective joy and sorrow because now, we must grieve in isolation.

I am hopeful for a time when we can come together to celebrate life again. Until then, I will count to three, exhale, and dig deeply to restore myself in moments of enduring heartache.

Life continues, and strength is derived from the power we have within and in the spirits of those we have loved.