Reflections in Transit: Grief, Memories, and Small Steps Forward

Reflections in Transit: Grief, Memories, and Small Steps Forward As I sit at Istanbul Airport waiting for my connecting flight, I find myself lost in the bustling energy of families traveling together. Watching parents with their children brings back vivid memories of traveling with Sana and Maahir. Those trips were filled with laughter, little rituals, and moments that now feel like treasures. Sana and Maahir absolutely loved exploring airport lounges, but for Sana, the highlight was always the showers. It didn’t matter what else the lounge offered; a shower was the ultimate luxury in her eyes. Despite her sleep issues, Sana had an uncanny ability to curl up into a tiny ball and sleep peacefully on flights. It was a talent I always admired. Leaving my mom behind in Mumbai was bittersweet. At 92, her eyes held a sadness I can’t forget—a silent yearning for more time together. She asked, “When will you come back?” and her words echoed the longing I carry for Sana. I pine for Sana in the same way my mom pines for my company. The irony of loss isn’t lost on me. We often fear losing the elderly, assuming their time is limited because they’ve lived a full life. But the unexpected loss of someone younger, someone with so much life ahead of them, shakes your very core. Last year, when I left India, it was hard to say goodbye to my mom, but I was comforted by the thought of seeing Sana soon. Never in my worst nightmares did I imagine that she wouldn’t be there. This trip to Mumbai offered me moments of solace amidst family and friends. Though we didn’t speak openly about Sana, their quiet love and support spoke volumes. My aunt said something that resonated deeply with me: “Everyone’s grief is their own, and nobody can guess its intensity.” Her words were a reminder that grief is deeply personal, a journey each of us must navigate in our own way. As I return to Chicago, I try to focus on the small steps ahead. A new job awaits me, as does the excitement of Maahir and Serena’s engagement celebration. These milestones are my way of moving forward, even if the steps feel tentative and uncertain. Grief doesn’t have a clear timeline or roadmap. It’s a constant companion, one that shapes how I see the world and approach life. But as I look ahead, I hold on to the love that surrounds me—the love of family, friends, and the enduring presence of Sana in my heart.