My wife and mum

Am Kelvin, age 31, Truly, I understand that we a newly married couple and we need time and space since our marriage is still very young actually few months gone but then, I'm the only surviving child of my mom, I lost my dad over injuries he suffer after a Ghastly car accident when i was just 6 and she single handedly raised me..

On September 3, over 3 decades ago, after an unexpected, "You need to get to the hospital now" phone call, followed by three nights of sleeping in a hospital chair, listening to my mom cry and holding her hand as we anxiously listened for my dad's last breath, he died. Being the first one to notice he stopped breathing, realizing he was really gone as he lay in my mother's arms, it remains the single worst feeling I hope to ever experience.

Being so young at that time, I don't actually understand what it means lossing someone, especially a family member. I wasn't grieving the loss of my dad for myself, I was grieving the loss for my mom and my sibling. It's one thing to have a family member die; it's another thing seeing everyone in your family break down simultaneously. It's heartbreak compounded by heartbreak.

The moment my dad was confirmed death, that all crumbled and I was faced with the questions: What do they mean he is dead? Is he coming back? Am I going to seeing him again someday, now I get it, he have gone to Heaven to be with the Lord. As I usually seen in movies. Once you lost someone dear to you, you suffer a loss so great that your sense of reality and reasoning collapses.

I knew only a few people around my age who had a similar experience. It was comforting to connect over shared sadness, but none of us had the answers to "Where do I go from here?" or "When am I allowed to try being happy and how do I start?" At times it still feels like we may never get these answers we desperately need.

During one of the several sleepless nights after my dad died, I turned to my window looking up into the sky to fight how isolated I felt and try to find some clarity. I needed someone or something to tell me what to expect. I knew people my age had been through this, but I had no idea why no one was talking about the unique impact of grief on kids. I realized I was going to have to try to figure out what's ahead on my own probably with the help of my mum.

I'm still trying to come to peace with the fact that the world I lived in before my dad was died will never return. I still feel a sting in my chest when I see a dad and his daughter walking down the street, or a dad his son of my age playing. I can't help but get sad when I achieve little things I know my dad would be proud of, like coming first in quiz competition, building a table by myself, or switching the batteries in my toy Car or alarm clock. When I realize I can never again call him and hear, "That's great, Kels!"

It was an early morning when I was vast asleep few years after my father's death I was 9 , My Uncle suddenly woke me up and said "we have to go" and that's how it all started.

Firstly I was surprised to see him, I never knew he came visiting, Good morning Uncle Brian, I said as I struggled to open my eyes cause I was still sleepy and not fully awake. He held my hand and pulled me slowly and gently from my bed. We went to the Sitting room and boom!!!

It was filled up with lots of people, neighbors relatives, friends and family members, I was scared and Shocked to my bones because the last time I saw such number of people at our house was when my father died.

"Where is my Mom"?

"What's happening"I asked

No one said a word. They only stared at me as if I was some sort of alien and desperately waited to hear my answer. And right then I knew that I would never let any of them see me cry. And I never did.

Uncle Brian Finally, in a strange strangled whisper, he told me that my brother, my sweet Big Benjamin, had died.

My heart pause and time seized "He is what"?

I looked up at Uncle B, I couldn't believe my ears, How I wished he would tell me that this was all some big mistake, or a big joke and if it is a happens its be a joke it's quiet an expensive one.

But when he looked back at me I saw one small tear escape from the corner of his eye, like wax from a candle dripping slowly down his face, and I knew it was true. That cruel word "death" had come and taken my brother away.

After a short while lots of people that I had never seen before started coming into the house. One by one they came in with their heads held low. I wanted to speak to Mommy. To ask her what was going on. Who were all these strange guests? Why was everyone talking so quietly? It was all so confusing, so frightening. All I wanted was my Mommy to hold me, to look after me, to tell me what was happening, but now she was surrounded by strangers and seemed to be somewhere far, far away

Oh No!!

My God!!

Not again!!

Big Ben?? Dead??

Why? How? I asked a thousand questions without answers. I went back to my room fell onto my bed and cried. I felt all the happiness and laughter inside of me sort of...fly away, and a black, ugly feeling crept in. It spread itself over every part of me, it sank into my bones and it crawled inside my heart. And I thought I would never be happy again

Night after night I pressed my face into my pillow so that nobody would hear me and I cried. I called out to God with all my might, again and again. I really thought if I begged hard enough He would bring Big Ben back to me.

He was part of me and I was part of him. It couldn't be that Big Ben had left me all alone and I would never see him again just like Dad.

And only once I was too tired to cry anymore would I finally fall asleep.

For several long, lonely years I begged, I hoped, I waited. But He never did bring him back to me just like my father never came back.

The years passed and eventually all I had left were some faded memories and a broken heart.