When Loss Hits Closer Than Expected

It was around 5 p.m. I was about to jump into a team meeting when my phone lit up; it was my uncle calling. I almost cut the call, thinking I’d return it after the meeting, but before I could say a word, he said something that froze me completely: “Eashwar is no more.” It took me a second to process. My aunt’s husband - my mom’s brother-in-law - was gone. What hit harder was that just a day before, I had been thinking about that side of the family. They had even appeared in a dream of mine. Maybe it was a sign, maybe just coincidence.

Truth be told, I hadn’t been in touch with them much. They’ve always been a close knit trio - my aunt, uncle and their daughter living in their own little world. My mom used to be close to them, but thanks to some unnecessary drama and behavior, those ties eventually broke. My dad wasn’t exactly supportive either. He would taunt my mom about her “imperfect family,” which still feels ironic, given how flawed most of his family are.

After my mom passed away, I made an effort to bring her siblings together again. I realized life’s too short for ego, grudges and isolation. We even planned a visit to my aunt and uncle’s home in Pune. I was told they had a spacious place, and everyone seemed eager. I was just about to book my tickets when my cousin their daughter, who still talks and behaves like a child despite being 30. She called to say, “Don’t come now. Kalyani Paati and Naren are visiting, it’ll be hard to adjust.”

That was the end of my effort to extend an olive branch.

Later, when I met my grandmother, she asked why I hadn’t visited last year. Apparently, my aunt had told her I was the one who canceled. I remember feeling frustrated but chose silence over confrontation. Then I found out they’d moved from Pune to Thane once again, without even informing their own brothers. Family seemed to matter only when money was needed.

Fast forward to this year, when one of our cousins was getting married. Despite being invited multiple times, my aunt and her family didn’t show up as they were busy. I remember telling my uncle, “Do they even realize how they’re isolating their own daughter?” Because at 30, if life throws a tragedy your way you need to know how to navigate it. You need to have some sense of independence, of coping practically.

And that’s exactly what happened.

When I got the call about my uncle’s death, I reached out to my cousin immediately. She was in shock, understandably. But what worried me was how completely lost she seemed. She didn’t know what to do next. When all of us called, she passed the phone to the doctor, asking if we could speak to him, and at one point even asked whether a post-mortem was needed even though it was clearly a cardiac arrest and he’d been having symptoms for days.

It wasn’t judgment I felt, it was disappointment. Because this was exactly what I had feared. A life so sheltered, so disconnected, that when reality hit, she didn’t have the tools to handle it.

Some cousins had previously tried to help her, guide her, even suggesting she step out of her comfort zone and live independently for a while. My aunt took it as an attack - “You’re trying to separate my daughter from me!” she said.

But the truth is, life doesn’t wait for anyone. Family will rally around you for a few days when tragedy strikes, but then everyone goes back to their lives. You’re left with your thoughts, your emotions and your own ability or inability to move forward. This incident reminded me of something very real and often unspoken - being too insulated doesn’t protect you; it weakens you. Love your people, be close, yes - but also let life teach you independence, resilience and strength.

Because loss doesn’t come with a manual. And when it hits, you’ll need to stand tall, even if your world feels like it’s collapsing.