Onika L. Dainty

No one ever thinks about death when they are living. It’s only when death becomes imminent do we start to wonder what’s next? What happens after you die? Well, I am not God or any Higher Power, I don’t know if heaven exists but I’d like to believe so, and therefore I can’t answer the questions that plague our minds when we are faced with our mortality or the mortality of our loved ones. I can however tell you what happens to the people that are left behind, based on my lived experience with death and subsequently grief. They say there are five stages of grief: 

• Denial: a temporary response to a loss that helps you process it. 

• Anger: a natural response to loss that can be directed to numerous sources, even the individual that has passes

• Bargaining: a process where you make deals with yourself or others to feel better

• Depression: a natural response to loss that can feel like it will last forever. This response is often situational and not an indication of mental illness

• Acceptance: a stage where you learn to live with the loss and acknowledge the reality of it. 

Though I have experienced all five stages of grief due to loss, I also know that grief is a more complex process that often doesn’t fit or neatly follow the order suggested by the above five principles. When we grieve, we cry, we become numb, we go mad, we develop addictions to cope with the loss, we are sad and stuck in a seemingly never ending loop of painful memories and poignant regrets. We are still alive but a part of us dies with our loved one. We don’t laugh as hard, we don’t smile as much and our hearts break and are never the same again. I’ve experienced two deaths in my life that left me forever changed, that rocked my foundation to the core and I will share with you how grief affected my life, my choices, my mental health and how I found peace because the thing about grief that no one tells you is that you never fully recover, you never truly heal all you can hope for is that you find peace, joy and happiness again after your loved one passes because that is the true legacy they leave you.  

My Grandmother Alvira-December 30, 2004

My grandmother Alvira was my favorite person in the world and I was hers. She was mother to nine children and grandmother and great-grandmother to over 50 children produced by her offspring. She was 82-years old when God called her home and the day she died was the day I was born, the day I turned 22-years old. I was celebrating my 22nd birthday with friends in Ottawa, ON when I walked into my apartment to prepare for a New Year’s get together and my mother was in my living room, she had travelled four hours to tell me that Gran-Gan Alvira had died in Guyana the day before, the day I turned 22-years old. The scream that came out of my mouth originated in a soul-deep place full of pain and loss that only God knew existed and then I fainted. (Denial)

That moment, the moment my person died was the catalyst that turned my life in a different direction. At the funeral my family said things like, “She lived a full and blessed life” and “She’s with God in Heaven now” or “She’s not suffering with pain anymore.” The honest truth was I didn’t care, I was mad at them and at her for leaving me (Anger). My grandmother was more a mother to me than my own mother growing up. She took care of me when my mom  had to work long hours at the hospital, she made me laugh until I cried, she let me snuggle in her arms and play with the waddle under her neck, she taught me how to sing jazz music, she danced with me, she taught me how to be a good, kind, generous and gracious woman and when I went away to university we talked on the phone daily where she would emphasize that, “no one loved her the way I did.” She was my best friend, my person, my soulmate and when she died I lost my sense of identity, I lost my fire, my fight, my will to keep living.

After I returned to Ottawa to finish my final year of my degree program I was numb to everything and cared about nothing (Depression). I had already started using substances, specifically marijuana recreationally but the escape from reality it provided was too tempting to pass us so casual use became daily dependence. Although I managed to graduate with an honours degree it didn’t feel deserved and I could not muster up any excitement for my achievements, after all Gran-Gran wouldn’t be there to see me walk the stage. With my new bad habit and a complete lack of desire to move home where memories of her lurked everywhere I decided to stay in Ottawa and work. Truthfully, I only worked to support my habit. A year passed, then two and by May 2006 my life once again would forever change.

In May 2006 I had my first Manic-Psychotic episode and was hospitalized and diagnosed with Bipolar I Disorder. What I know now that I didn’t know then was that the death of my grandmother wasn’t just the trigger that propelled me into the world of mental illness, it was the bullet and the gun. I spiralled out of control after my diagnosis, I continued to use, I had manic episode after manic episode and when I wasn’t manic I was deeply depressed. It was my cousin Kim, one of my grandmother’s other treasured granddaughters that pulled me out of the abyss. We went on daily walks by the lakeshore, she helped me find purpose again, I learned to laugh again with her, she became my greatest supporter in my mental health journey, She guided me through my grief, she reminded me all the lessons our grandmother taught us, we would dance and light a candle on my birthday to celebrate my life and Gran-Gran Alvira’s and without realizing it my heart began to heal and Kim became my person. 

My grandmother was not going to live forever (Acceptance). I grew to understand and accept that however, I will always be left to wonder if I didn’t have a substance use disorder, if I had managed my mental health better, If I didn’t isolate myself from the world, If I practiced self-care and gave myself grace, If I had more tools in my toolkit would I have been better equipped to handle the inevitable trigger of death, could I stop mania from consuming my brain, from drastically altering my mood, from wreaking pure havoc like it’s done in the past? If I were better equipped would my journey through madness have a different conclusion? 

Present Day

On November 20, 2024 my dearest cousin Kim, my big sister, my person died of Endometrial Cancer. She fought relentlessly and unapologetically, staying true to her Naturalist values and never allowing anyone, doctors, family or friends to dictate her course of treatment. She was positive until the very end and she truly believed God had a plan for her and every life she touched. The last time I saw her she was in her hospital bed and she was surrounded by love and prayers. She was watchful and quiet and serene with a glow on her face that made her look younger than her 55-years. I was told my Gran-Gran Alvira had that same glow, it was like a glow of peace, a glow of knowing that the time had come to go home to heaven and that is exactly where Kim was going to end up. Kim's kindness, generosity and grace had an effect on everyone who knew her. She was a mother, a sister, a granddaughter, an aunt, a cousin and a great friend to so many. She was my person and whether she knew it or not over the years of our sisterly-bond she prepared me for the inevitable moment she would no longer be able to walk my journey with me. 

I was asked to speak at her funeral nine days after she passed. That week and a half after Kim’s death I experienced a myriad of emotions from sorrow to anger to pain and regret and many tearfilled sleepless nights. Although I knew her death was imminent she had an unwavering belief that she would live, that God would give her her miracle as long as she kept fighting. I believed it too because I was simply unable to imagine a world without my big sister, my person, my best friend in it. So for my final goodbye I decided to recreate the world where we found comfort in each other, solace by the water and where I found healing because of her steadfast faith in me.

 Kim was a determined woman and she was determined to not give-up on me, she was determined to help her lost baby cousin whose potential shone through all the wreckage I often left in my wake. Her determination is the reason I stopped lying in my bed for days, weeks and months at a time when the depression over my deteriorating mental health became unbearable. Kim would gently insist we walk the Ajax lakeshore, taking in the fresh air and feeling the sun kiss our faces reminding me I was alive, all would be well in time, giving me hope and a never-ending feeling of gratitude.

When we finished our restorative walks by the waterfront, Kim would take me home and we would start the process of making vegan pancakes and apple preserves. I would chop the apples into thin slices while Kim would mix the magic that would create the most delicious pancakes I’ve ever tasted. We would listen to 90’s music and dance and sing around her kitchen. I’ve had several homes over the years and Kim always showed up with ingredients in hand ready to christen my kitchen with our signature dish.

When she was diagnosed in March 2024 with stage 4 cancer and made the decision not to participate in Western treatment methods like chemotherapy, radical surgery or radiation I was terrified for her. I knew very little about cancer or the various treatment options but I knew Kim and I knew she was determined to honour her body and the natural journey she had embarked on from childhood. I think it was in those early days that I began to grieve for my cousin. I experienced denial because of her age and how healthy she had always been. I was angry with God and Kim for putting me in a situation where I felt helpless. I simply could not comprehend her circumstances or control the outcome. I prayed every minute trying to bargain with God for her life and better health. When Kim was checked into the hospital for what would be the last time I fell into a deep depression and was unable to see or call her only communicating through short text messages (I feel regret over this low period). Acceptance came when I finally saw her for the last time and we looked at each other like we were memorizing our respective features, Kim smiled eyes wide and knowing, my eyes were filled with tears. I held her close and told her I loved her and that we would both be okay.

Final Thought

Unlike with my grandmother’s passing 20 years prior, I now have the tools, knowledge and understanding of myself  to prepare for grieving the loss of my dear cousin. I take my medication daily, when you read this entry I will be a year-plus sober from substances, I have built a structure, routine and habits that I live by, I practice self-care, I practice daily prayer and meditation, I exercise, I journal to self-reflect, I set boundaries that help me maintain mental wellness, I give myself space and grace to mourn, process and honour the people I’ve lost and I have a treasured level of self-awareness that I continue to develop when triggers like the tragedy of a loved one’s death become a part of my reality. I am still on my journey to wellness and better mental health but I know my cousin Kim, my biggest supporter, my greatest advocate, my big sister, my best friend and my forever person would be proud of the progress I’ve made.  

If you have experienced loss this year or ever, my heart and deepest condolences go out to you and your loved ones. Grief is a complex and winding road that will have you experiencing a gambit of up and down emotions. As I said earlier, you never truly heal from great loss, it's like trying to put a broken vase back together. Even when all the pieces are present, even if the final product you put together turns out to be beauty born of tragedy, the tragedy still exists and it’s imprinted on your heart and your mind. Once the passing of a loved one happens you are forever changed but you do not have to remain forever broken. One day, you find yourself smiling, then laughing and then moving forward into a better place where loss and pain no longer dictate your future. You make a choice to lean into the legacy of peace, love, joy and happiness your loved one has left for you and you find your way back from the darkness of grief to the light of hope.