Saying good-bye.
What many people don't know is that I didn't come home this weekend solely for the purpose of seeing Kristen and Sam. While those certainly are good reasons that I enjoy fully, there is another reason. This weekend is also my only chance to say good-bye to an old friend.
Have you ever heard the expression "it takes a village to raise a child?" Well, my family has wonderful relationships with our neighbors, and many of them are closer to me than some of my uncles and aunts. My entire life, my family has included the two households on either side of our little den. They are family, along with others in the town. Simple as that.
Well, across the street live Joe, Josie, and Eleanor. All three are absolutely wonderful, even Joe, despite his raving homophobia and personal bigotry. (He's an old Sicilian man, pushing 70, that's very set in his ways. You have to make allowances for some people; we all have an ugly side.) Anywho, Eleanor is Josie's mother, and she is an amazing woman. She and Joe never really got along, which is unfortuanate, but still Joe and Josie have taken good care of her. She used to work out in the garden with them, but as she's gotten older her body has gotten weaker and weaker.
Eleanor fell a couple times, but always recovered. She began drinking heavily, leaving her blood currently very thin and her body dependant on the alcohal. Joe and Josie just gave her more, to make her happy. It's been commonly accepted that she is in fact waiting to die. It's been hard to see her, in the past year or so, because of that.
Well, Joe and Josie are by no means young. She is a burden to them, though they always accepted it. The two are going to Italy, and she is going to live with her other son in Ohio.
What they failed to tell her is that she isn't coming back.
Isn't that something? A grown woman, who has seen more than any of us, and is still as sharp as she ever was is treated like a child. The idea of this made me sick. Today is my chance to say good-bye, and I have to pretend I don't know I'll never see her again?
As it turns out, she does seem to know. I'm guessing she figured it out herself and confronted Joe and Josie about it. I said she's sharp, after all. I got to see her today and say good-bye. She was in bed, because it was cold (thin blood doesn't help with this weather). Surprisingly, she looked better for some reason. Less hopeless. I think she is looking forward to spending time with her son, and she knows what we know.
It really will be better for her. Both Tom (Eleanor's son) and his wife are doctors that care about her very much. It's their turn to take care of her now, and she may live another ten good years with them. I'd imagine they'd try to cut down her alcohal dependency, as well.
I'm not worried about her. I know she'll be fine. I just also know that I won't see her again. Seeing her today was essentially her living funeral. It's hard to say good-bye. I held my smile through the visit, but I'm sure that despite her vision, she saw right through all of us. No amount of hair in my eyes could help that.
I'll miss her. I'll miss her a lot. Saying good-bye brought back a lot of old feelings from when Memee died four years ago. Four years. A drop in the bucket. I wonder, slightly afraid, if I'll forget about Eleanor. If I'll misplace her until I hear about her death sometime in the future. Can a person die twice?
My mom and I both cried a bit when we got home. We're too alike, holding it in. It's kind of funny. Both of us have been thinking about Memee a lot lately. Some things just never go away. I feel like maybe the feelings came up this way because I ignored them. I feel a little guilty.
The entire experience is a bit sureal. I've decided that I don't want to die. This sounds stupid, but I'm not speaking in physical terms. It's a little too abstract to articulate yet, but it's certainly possible.
On a side-note, I changed the comment setting to allow anyone to comment.
Please be courteous and note that anonymous comments do piss me off. I'm just too lazy to equip this page with an IP tracker. If you'd like to be anonymous, please AT LEAST create a monicker of some kind. I like to know if two anonymous posts are made by the same person or not.
Have you ever heard the expression "it takes a village to raise a child?" Well, my family has wonderful relationships with our neighbors, and many of them are closer to me than some of my uncles and aunts. My entire life, my family has included the two households on either side of our little den. They are family, along with others in the town. Simple as that.
Well, across the street live Joe, Josie, and Eleanor. All three are absolutely wonderful, even Joe, despite his raving homophobia and personal bigotry. (He's an old Sicilian man, pushing 70, that's very set in his ways. You have to make allowances for some people; we all have an ugly side.) Anywho, Eleanor is Josie's mother, and she is an amazing woman. She and Joe never really got along, which is unfortuanate, but still Joe and Josie have taken good care of her. She used to work out in the garden with them, but as she's gotten older her body has gotten weaker and weaker.
Eleanor fell a couple times, but always recovered. She began drinking heavily, leaving her blood currently very thin and her body dependant on the alcohal. Joe and Josie just gave her more, to make her happy. It's been commonly accepted that she is in fact waiting to die. It's been hard to see her, in the past year or so, because of that.
Well, Joe and Josie are by no means young. She is a burden to them, though they always accepted it. The two are going to Italy, and she is going to live with her other son in Ohio.
What they failed to tell her is that she isn't coming back.
Isn't that something? A grown woman, who has seen more than any of us, and is still as sharp as she ever was is treated like a child. The idea of this made me sick. Today is my chance to say good-bye, and I have to pretend I don't know I'll never see her again?
As it turns out, she does seem to know. I'm guessing she figured it out herself and confronted Joe and Josie about it. I said she's sharp, after all. I got to see her today and say good-bye. She was in bed, because it was cold (thin blood doesn't help with this weather). Surprisingly, she looked better for some reason. Less hopeless. I think she is looking forward to spending time with her son, and she knows what we know.
It really will be better for her. Both Tom (Eleanor's son) and his wife are doctors that care about her very much. It's their turn to take care of her now, and she may live another ten good years with them. I'd imagine they'd try to cut down her alcohal dependency, as well.
I'm not worried about her. I know she'll be fine. I just also know that I won't see her again. Seeing her today was essentially her living funeral. It's hard to say good-bye. I held my smile through the visit, but I'm sure that despite her vision, she saw right through all of us. No amount of hair in my eyes could help that.
I'll miss her. I'll miss her a lot. Saying good-bye brought back a lot of old feelings from when Memee died four years ago. Four years. A drop in the bucket. I wonder, slightly afraid, if I'll forget about Eleanor. If I'll misplace her until I hear about her death sometime in the future. Can a person die twice?
My mom and I both cried a bit when we got home. We're too alike, holding it in. It's kind of funny. Both of us have been thinking about Memee a lot lately. Some things just never go away. I feel like maybe the feelings came up this way because I ignored them. I feel a little guilty.
The entire experience is a bit sureal. I've decided that I don't want to die. This sounds stupid, but I'm not speaking in physical terms. It's a little too abstract to articulate yet, but it's certainly possible.
On a side-note, I changed the comment setting to allow anyone to comment.
Please be courteous and note that anonymous comments do piss me off. I'm just too lazy to equip this page with an IP tracker. If you'd like to be anonymous, please AT LEAST create a monicker of some kind. I like to know if two anonymous posts are made by the same person or not.
posted by Zoopers at 10:48 AM
7 Comments:
Think about it as this
You never die if you are remembered for it. Somethings, and some people never die. Everyone can think of one person who is in physical sense's "dead", but who comes to mind when asked "Who do you miss the most?"
Maybe it's silly, but life as we know it, this right now, never ends. We never end as long as we are remembered. This is all a dream, but it can be a memorable one, or not.
On the other hand, we all die. Everyone. Stop breathing, stop living, are encased in the ground, slowly disintergrate, and their soul (if you believe in God or whatever) goes up or down, or they simply stop to exist (if you are agnostic/atheist). This is the journey, and this is the end. Would we enjoy the life if we were to live forever? No. It would no longer be special. It'd just be "there". It would be like something we take for granted every day; a table, a chair, a window, it's there and so there is no great interest in it. Only when it is gone; when we drop whatever we attempted to put down, when we fall back, when we look out to find a wall; do we wonder about it, does it become important. Otherwise.. it makes no difference.
So Death is never really sad, and you might not literally see her again, or talk to her, or feel her, or hold her, or anything.. But she never leaves you. She lives as a memory, a spirit, an angel, an elapsed time. A part of you.
death is not the end
merely a transition
Thanks, but I'm not looking for comfort. It was a sureal experience I just thought I'd share.
On that note, is it such a great thing to be remembered? It's a classic wish to remain in the memories of others, but how long does that actually last? Unless you are incredibly famous, your memory will survive for, at most, two generations. Sparing that, you "live on" as a trivial summation of your accomplishments.
If someone is forgotten, do they "die?" It could be said that they never lived. Death itself isn't experienced by its recepient, only the moments leading to it. Therefore, if a person is not remembered, do they really die?
Physically, of course, but otherwise no. A person's words or deeds may outlive them for quite some time, but a person's true death occurs for his or her audience but once. Save some dramatic exceptions, such as the one I described, or a great change that erases the existence of an individual in terms of our perceptions of him. "He's dead to me," and so on.
Death is the end. Utterly and completely. Even if something lies beyond it, the existence we hold now ends forever and irrevocably. Transition or not, there is no going back. Death is final and absolute.
That simple truth, that eternal constant is the sole factor that gives life meaning.
Ah, man!
Next time I see you I will hug you into unconsciousness.
I've never been afraid of dying, myself, but I am terrified of growing old.
I hope this experience brings purpose and drive to your life, rather than a lethargic sense of hopelessness.
I'll speed up production on your Write-up, amigo.
And I'll see you soon.
Quite astute of you, good sir.
As I stated, the cold truth of death gives meaning to life. Every bit of wisdom I attain of our helpless condition spurs me to love life all the more.
Personally, I don't fear the physical atrophy of growining old, but mental deterioration scares the SHIT out of me.
Oh, I have a nasty assignment to work on, but I plan to work on a short story soon. Andrew inspired me.
The fact that I made it a promise to him to do it makes it easier for me to actually accomplish.
As a weight-lifter and also an intellectual, both the physical and mental deterioration scare me equally.
Well, no. I guess you're right. The slow decay of my mind frightens me more.
I anxiously await your story.
And I am hating Andrew LeTellier and his drooling fans more and more everyday.
Rightfully so. That whole ordeal was not cool. Sorry about that, bud.
And I also dislike the idea of one day becoming so weak that a single fall could paralyze me. I enjoy freedom of movement, as you may have noticed.
Post a Comment
<< Home