I do not even know what sub-reddit this falls under, I just have to get it out.

Several weeks ago we have lost a very dear relative. The type of uncle that everybody calls uncle, though he is not his blood relative. He had surrounded me throughout all my childhood, festivals, impromptu visits, long phone calls with my parents, always bringing things, constantly inquiring about my school or work life.

By the time of his death, everyone suddenly liked him.

WhatsApp statuses became poetic. The Facebook posts had been made by family members who had not been in contact with him in a long time. The funeral was well in tears, as people were narrating how significant he was, how he was family, how his absence created a massive gap.

And I was standing there sick.

Due to the fact that I can recall the past several years of his life.

I recall how calls were not answered.

How overtures gradually ceased to come.

how he would make his appearance at parties and how he would be received in a very polite manner... but on a side.

The way that people had no time to see him when he was ill, but now they had time to compose lengthy captions.

The worst part? I recall him shaking it off. Smiling. Saying, everyone has his own life.

Everyone now wishes that they loved him.

I have never made this aloud, because I should have ruined the illusion, and, evidently, we must not speak ill of the dead, or of the living who suddenly found their sorrow.

However, seeing people grieve about the thought of him, and not even the person they have overlooked, has forever altered the way I perceive my family.

It has made me know the performative nature of love. It is how individuals present themselves with a lot of noise at death, but leave silently in life.

And honestly? The truth of that is even worse than a loss itself.