Wounds Are Where The Light Enters

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Image credited to Eve H.

Our wounds are where the light enters.

Nimrah K., Writer

On the morning of February 10, 2014. I woke up to my mom crying uncontrollably, moaning: “Why God, why?” My mom did this often. Just two years before, my older sister had been admitted to the hospital, despite the fact that she hadn’t shown significant signs of leukemia. It had been more than a year; and now, my whole family gathered around me to tell the news. With a shaken voice, my mom told me, “She’s not coming back.” It took me a few minutes to realize that my sister had passed on. She was only 21.

The next few days were a challenge. I watched my mom cry almost everyday. Moreover, school was harder than ever. I had missed three weeks of 3rd grade, which put my grades in a horrible place. I came home every day to see my sister’s room empty. All of her things were there, except she was missing.

That summer, my mom decided to enroll me into a grief camp called “Comfort Zone.” Attending that camp was the one of the best things that my mom had done for me. I learned so many valuable lessons. First and foremost, I understood that I was never alone. Despite the desolation I felt during that time, I was not the only one. There were so many other kids like me.

Before, I was mad at God for taking my sister. I’d come to a point in my life where I couldn’t move on. However, I was learning how to talk, how to let it all out. In fact, releasing those feelings and knowing that I was free to mourn actually kept me going.

By applying these lessons to my life, I became stronger. I used this experience to grow. For example, when I would get in trouble, I tried my best to not blame my parents (this became harder as I crept near my tween years) and reflect on myself instead. My mom pointed out how my character improved. I honestly never wanted people to feel bad for me just because I lost someone. Now in 7th grade, I do have my bad days, yet I’m mostly happy. That’s what most people don’t understand about loss. The hole caused by grief can be refilled with happiness and those who love us.

This experience has shaped me as person. I know what true pain feels like. And I know how to persevere. Our wounds are where the light enters.