Today started off with a bang, I woke up, worked out half assed, twiddled my twat, and took a shower all by 10 15. Then as I raced over to my mother's house, (suppose to be there by 1030..) people were compelled to get in my way, and stay there. I finally made it, only to find that my mother isn't even close to ready. That was annoying since she wasn't even suppose to be invited in the first place. It sounds mean, but let me explain.
Today was supposed to be a day where my Zia (aunt) and I could hang out together. She had breast cancer and a pulmonary embolism a few years ago. During that time, I was the one that took care of her. At the cost of my job (hated it anyway.) and my love at the time, Billy.. But he is a different story for another time. Also during this time, my Zia and I became very close. I was there to see everything, help her through everything.. It was tough seeing my strong aunt suffering in that kind of pain and misery. For anyone that doesn't know, Chemo is no walk in the park. It is straining physically and mentally.
A few weeks ago, I received a phone call: Zia's cancer was back.
Impossible. I refuse to accept it. It has to be something else.
It had almost been 5 years. 5 years is a big step for cancer patients.
I cannot tell you the horror that went through my mind upon hearing this. I was scared. Beyond scared. and worried. Shes like my mom. I am closer to her than I am my mom. She inspires me to be a strong women, where I see my mom as ...not as strong. Not weak, just, not able to hold it together as well. I even have a tattoo representing her, and her struggle with cancer the first time around. I love her, and I do not think I could possibly stand to lose her. I really believe I will have to be committed into an asylum.
You see, you might be thinking, what the hell is wrong with this woman? Everybody dies, it's a fact of life. And that is true. Everyone dies. Especially my family it seems like. We die. I have been to more funerals than I have had birthday celebrations. In 97, it was my oldest brother,my friend in the year after, then my uncle, then my aunt... Family friends, and death was numb to me. Until October 30, 2010.
I'm at work, super busy as we are known for Halloween costumes. I get this call, its my mother. The police are here. They say Michael's body has been found. Of course the first thing that goes through my head is NO. That's not true. It can't be. Michael can't die. He's a survivor...
My body is numb. They say he was in the water for two weeks.I will never forgive myself. The last time my brother called, I hit ignore, because I was at work, I forgot all about it, and never called him back. His last words to me where "I love you sister. Call me when you can." And I never did. I hate myself for it. I have cut myself so many times over it.. The guilt is unbearable to this day, almost two years later. That was the day I decided my stupid job would never matter more than anything. That I would stop being so selfish, and that was the day I became deathly terrified of death. Of someone dying unexpectedly.
And I remember, I had to see his body. I needed the proof. The funeral director deeply advised against it, but I am ..Strong willed, I like to say. My sister and I both looked. That is the last image I have of my brother. His body after two weeks in a river.. As some of you may know, it is not an ideal image for someone one loves. When my brother died, I didn't have a protector anymore. I knew he'd always be there for me..I have no more big brothers. And my dad? Out of state, and never misses the chance to remind me how much he never did want me. I felt/feel all alone. Vulnerable. I hate it.
I am not scared of death for me. I am scared of death for people I love. Since then, I haven't been able to hold a grudge, (something I was very well-known for..), or be in a fight with someone. People die, everyday. And I'm sick of it being people I love
A few months after that, my favorite cousin had died. Just one day, she didn't wake up. She was 40 something, and more like an aunt. I use to spend the summers there, and weekends too, when I wasn't with my sister. Another unexpected death. This just fueled my fear.
A few months ago, My grandpa died. One moment he was up, taking the trash out, and next thing my Zia finds, he is lying peacefully in the driveway, like he is taking a nap.. except he wasn't. He was gone. Again, I needed to see his body. My grandpa opted to have his body donated to science. He was an alcoholic for many years, and I guess that's something scientists wish to study in the organs. My grandpa was in a sterile room, on a metal bed.. He looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping. And I felt much better about it. About his death. I needed to see him like that. He looked healthy.. weird considering he was dead.
I am sorry for my ranting about death, but I am glad to have finally gotten it out. I am a very private person in the real world, and I feel no one really wants to hear. Granted, no one probably wants to read it either, but I feel much better after writing it.