How does one start writing about grief? How do you find the words to describe something that is raw and surreal. It was mind numbing, I don't know if that's the default action of the brain as it tries to tap the right emotions, reaching out to deeper recesses of your subconscious to retrieve patches of shared memories. Outside, I just felt cold and empty.

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We walked silently passing through names, some remembered, most forgotten. The earth looked thirsty that Saturday afternoon, waiting to be quenched by mourners.

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Five long years of not seeing nor talking to each other except for the occasional forwarded messages that I manage to send during Hallmark celebrations. Yet, she ignored us while we stood there in front of her name and her memories. Nobody was moving, I guess we were all maimed by the guilt we undeniably share.

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I thought of myself as a good friend. I always say that I don’t have that many friends but those that I have, I care for them all. But now I can’t remember the last time I sent an email or an sms just to say hi. I thought there would always be a next time, a birthday next year perhaps, a wedding, or another child’s baptismal that I could attend. We’re all young, have our own careers to mind, a lot of things ahead of us. I thought everybody’s busy and nobody wanted to be bothered. And I thought of myself as caring and sensitive. I just realized there is a huge gap between what I thought of myself and what I really am. And what I really am was reflected that moment when I was standing there alive and able to feel the guilt and pain while she was there unmoving, cold and gone.

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I believe I needed a prayer more than she does, for me to always remember what grief feels like, because I think it will remind me how short really life is and that there might be no more next time, no more chances of having that long overdue chat over coffee, no more chances to tell my friends that I really care and I’m just around if they need me.

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I am sorry for not reaching out Ann, for not being there to tell you that life is beautiful and it’s worth hanging on to. Sorry for not telling you not to succumb to society’s pressures and expectations, that there’s nothing wrong in failing, that everything’s gonna be okay because you have friends to share your miseries with. Sorry for the clichés, the what ifs, and the things that I shouldn’t have been sorry about had I been a real friend. Sorry.