My grandfather went into some sort of shock tonight. The image of his head bobbing backwards, and his eyes closed with his mouth slightly open, is nothing that I ever want to see again. I hope the image will soon be erased from my mind, because it's almost too much to handle.
My grandmother, from the other side of the family is pretty sick too. She's been hospitalized, and I'm scared. I don't want my fairy tale grandmother to pass away. I love her so much. And even though I'm not that child or grandchild that calls all the time, she holds a very very very very special place in my heart, and for some irrational reason, I was under the impression that she was going to live forever. My magical grandmother has to live forever, because that's just the way it is. But she's dying, and I'm so sad. It breaks my heart to think of my vibrant, stubborn, outspoken grandmother, laying in a hospital room in pain, trying to run her life and make decisions on her health, when she can barely move. And I feel so awful for my cousin, and my uncles, and my mom, who do what they can to help, but aren't experts and have to witness her detriment first hand. Life seems so cruel and unfair at times.
Yet, i pray each night for their health and to be out of pain. And I cry myself to sleep, and am thankful to the spirit that brings of life, God, or whatever power is out there that lets us be, that at least I'm able to meet them, and talk to them, and let them know how much I love them. And, they're surrounded by a loving family that cares for them. That I'm lucky enough to be part of a huge family that cares and loves as much as we all do, because the most beautiful thing about life, is knowing and feeling the love of a family.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
I think I have post-traumatic stress
Lately, people killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves, is all over t.v., or at least all over the few shows I watch, and frankly, it's making it really difficult for me to watch these shows. Not because the writing isn't good, or because of dis-interest, but because of the cold fear that creeps up my spine and settles into my bones every time the images pop on screen. The images stay with me all night as well, causing fitful sleep as I strive to wake from the horrific images that plague my dreams for many nights thereafter. It's my struggle, I suppose in dealing with my own insecurities and the guilt associated with Grant and Aubrey's deaths.
I am still so angry at them, I suppose, but I really don't know. My therapist said that they chose a long-term solution for a short term problem. Oh how, I wish someone had told them that when they were making their decisions to leave. My cousin made the comment once, that she was so angry because there are so many people striving to live in this world, so many people born with an illness, or who have come into bad health, and live each day fighting to live another day, yet they (Aubrey and Grant) they chose death, a finite end to what so many other people wanted. I still struggle to understand it, and at the same time fear that some day, I, like them will loose that instinct of self preservation. It seems so inhuman. And so unreal, but once people close to you choose that path, it makes you doubt yourself, and wonder if you'd be capable of going down that same road.
I hope not, I'd rather fight for what's mine to have. For what's mine to experience, and I'd want to choose to live for Emily and Tony who died such tragic deaths at so young a time. I'd choose to live for those two people who were just blossoming into new people, when life dealt them a cruel blow, and cheated families of a brother and sister, a father, a son and daughter, etc. It seemed so unfair. And yet, I still live with the sadness, and the anger, but mostly the fear.
The fear of being so afraid of the consequences, that I'm afraid to take big risks and chances in life. The fear of not ever becoming who I'm really supposed to be, because I'm afraid of what that would do to me, of whom I would become, and of how drastically my life would change. But also, there's that fear of living life without taking those risks, and cheating myself of a once-in-a-life-time adventure of Life.
I still lay in bed at night, and sometimes hear their laugh, or voice, and see a memory clear as day. And for a moment everything is peaceful, and life is as it should be, and those events of the past are nothing but a horrible dream. But then the dream beaks and I'm saddened, and anger causes me to push the memory aside. I go outside and turn my face towards the warm sun, and remember all the light in the world. I let the sun hug me with her rays, and remind me of all that's good in life, and am happy again, for that moment, in that day.
I am still so angry at them, I suppose, but I really don't know. My therapist said that they chose a long-term solution for a short term problem. Oh how, I wish someone had told them that when they were making their decisions to leave. My cousin made the comment once, that she was so angry because there are so many people striving to live in this world, so many people born with an illness, or who have come into bad health, and live each day fighting to live another day, yet they (Aubrey and Grant) they chose death, a finite end to what so many other people wanted. I still struggle to understand it, and at the same time fear that some day, I, like them will loose that instinct of self preservation. It seems so inhuman. And so unreal, but once people close to you choose that path, it makes you doubt yourself, and wonder if you'd be capable of going down that same road.
I hope not, I'd rather fight for what's mine to have. For what's mine to experience, and I'd want to choose to live for Emily and Tony who died such tragic deaths at so young a time. I'd choose to live for those two people who were just blossoming into new people, when life dealt them a cruel blow, and cheated families of a brother and sister, a father, a son and daughter, etc. It seemed so unfair. And yet, I still live with the sadness, and the anger, but mostly the fear.
The fear of being so afraid of the consequences, that I'm afraid to take big risks and chances in life. The fear of not ever becoming who I'm really supposed to be, because I'm afraid of what that would do to me, of whom I would become, and of how drastically my life would change. But also, there's that fear of living life without taking those risks, and cheating myself of a once-in-a-life-time adventure of Life.
I still lay in bed at night, and sometimes hear their laugh, or voice, and see a memory clear as day. And for a moment everything is peaceful, and life is as it should be, and those events of the past are nothing but a horrible dream. But then the dream beaks and I'm saddened, and anger causes me to push the memory aside. I go outside and turn my face towards the warm sun, and remember all the light in the world. I let the sun hug me with her rays, and remind me of all that's good in life, and am happy again, for that moment, in that day.
Monday, April 13, 2009
The bike ride
So, I'm on this biking kick--the same one I go on every spring. Only this time I'm in the "Big City," and it can be kinda scary. I mean, cars only stop at the red light at the very last second, pedestrians never stop for lights or traffic, and the roads aren't exactly always well kept. Really, it's no surprise to me that most people own a mountain bike.
Anyhow, so I did 22 miles last weekend and 24 miles this weekend. Each weekend I explored a different part of the city. Las weekend was passover, and we were following Vernon road until we came across a ginormous gathering of hasidic Jews. It appeared that they were waiting for some sort of shipment. Well, we worked are way through the black sea of clocks and continued to ride through an obviously Jewish neighborhood in Brooklyn until we eventually made our way to the Brooklyn Bridge. On the way, we saw these really cool old ruins covered by vines that ended up being part of an old Army something or other. I can't remember, but I really wished I had a film camera at that time to take black and white photo's of it.
This weekend, I decided to explore Astoria, but 10 miles wasn't enough for me, so I rode over the 59th street bridge, across Manhatten and up the Hudson River trail, were I discovered riverside park, which was actually pretty cute and quaint. I liked it. I turned around at 125th street because my knee started to hurt, but curiosity was urging me to go on.
This coming weekend, I think, that for safety reasons, I'll take the subway into the city, start my ride up the trail, and see if I can make it as far as the George Washington Bridge. That would be pretty fun, and quite an accomplishment.
Anyhow, so I did 22 miles last weekend and 24 miles this weekend. Each weekend I explored a different part of the city. Las weekend was passover, and we were following Vernon road until we came across a ginormous gathering of hasidic Jews. It appeared that they were waiting for some sort of shipment. Well, we worked are way through the black sea of clocks and continued to ride through an obviously Jewish neighborhood in Brooklyn until we eventually made our way to the Brooklyn Bridge. On the way, we saw these really cool old ruins covered by vines that ended up being part of an old Army something or other. I can't remember, but I really wished I had a film camera at that time to take black and white photo's of it.
This weekend, I decided to explore Astoria, but 10 miles wasn't enough for me, so I rode over the 59th street bridge, across Manhatten and up the Hudson River trail, were I discovered riverside park, which was actually pretty cute and quaint. I liked it. I turned around at 125th street because my knee started to hurt, but curiosity was urging me to go on.
This coming weekend, I think, that for safety reasons, I'll take the subway into the city, start my ride up the trail, and see if I can make it as far as the George Washington Bridge. That would be pretty fun, and quite an accomplishment.
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