(no subject)
it is only logical that death is a part of life. its like seasons. babies are born, people grow older, and leave us. sometimes people leave us too soon, or too dramatically, too suprisingly. none of us can make sense of it. death hasn't personally touched my life too often. i wasn't close with my grandpa that passed away while i was in high school. sometimes i forget he's even gone. caroline, my stepgrandma, that treated me as one of her own left me on the last day of eigth grade. i was releived she wouldn't have to be sick any more, living a life in a nursing home. but sometimes i don't understand, how it happens. when we're not prepared. in the past year, two of my friends, both who i've shared enormous parts of my life and soul with, had fathers pass away. i haven't quite figured out what my role in this situation is supposed to be. all i know is i want to drop everything and ease my brokenhearted friends pain. but what can you do at an hour such as these? how can you assure that everything is going to be OK once again?
i've hated southern indiana, pretty much all my life. i've always fell for the glamour of the flats that i've read in romance novels in france. the excitement, and almost importance of, nyc during the macy's day parade and the christmas season. the sunshine that seems never to set in california. the adorable aincent cottages in villiages in england i passed as i skimmed the well attended to gardens. to me, i figured, if i ever habituated in these spots, my life would have some importance. i might find happiness in the every day. i've realized, now, though, that its not where i am, its who i'm with. when jack died, and all of us came together, it was death that reunited lost friends. and suddenly, life felt right. my smalltown, indiana, sometimes meth invested home, was the only place in teh world, i wanted to be. to see sam, the last of the 7 of us (missing chris, because, HE of all people, actually left, and got a job, far away, on his own) to walk through the door, i looked at jon, and the others, and felt complete and tears filled my eyes. i did not dare let them fall. i set the tone, no one could be more emotionally then the only girl of the group of friends. so i stayed strong as i mourned for the old hippie that took care of his three kids, two that were major parts of my life. now, mind you, i know i'm that important. things would not have fallen apart with out me. but i did feel a sense of purpose in that room. just like yesterday. can you imagine never setting things right with your father before he left the earth? it makes me nervous about my own relationship wiht my father. it'd be a lie if i said i never thought of the relief that i would feel when he'd be gone. but to see ashley, standing there, still in shock, i didn't know what to do. it hasn't set in just yet.
so today, as a part of me is dark and gloomy, and i speak in broken sentences, and i am overwhelmed, yet perfectly fine, healthy happy and with plenty of people to love, i look at my southern indiana, and its beautiful morning and afternoon and i realize that i'm fine. i'm just fine. things will be ok, and my life will go exactly as according to Someone else's plan.
i've hated southern indiana, pretty much all my life. i've always fell for the glamour of the flats that i've read in romance novels in france. the excitement, and almost importance of, nyc during the macy's day parade and the christmas season. the sunshine that seems never to set in california. the adorable aincent cottages in villiages in england i passed as i skimmed the well attended to gardens. to me, i figured, if i ever habituated in these spots, my life would have some importance. i might find happiness in the every day. i've realized, now, though, that its not where i am, its who i'm with. when jack died, and all of us came together, it was death that reunited lost friends. and suddenly, life felt right. my smalltown, indiana, sometimes meth invested home, was the only place in teh world, i wanted to be. to see sam, the last of the 7 of us (missing chris, because, HE of all people, actually left, and got a job, far away, on his own) to walk through the door, i looked at jon, and the others, and felt complete and tears filled my eyes. i did not dare let them fall. i set the tone, no one could be more emotionally then the only girl of the group of friends. so i stayed strong as i mourned for the old hippie that took care of his three kids, two that were major parts of my life. now, mind you, i know i'm that important. things would not have fallen apart with out me. but i did feel a sense of purpose in that room. just like yesterday. can you imagine never setting things right with your father before he left the earth? it makes me nervous about my own relationship wiht my father. it'd be a lie if i said i never thought of the relief that i would feel when he'd be gone. but to see ashley, standing there, still in shock, i didn't know what to do. it hasn't set in just yet.
so today, as a part of me is dark and gloomy, and i speak in broken sentences, and i am overwhelmed, yet perfectly fine, healthy happy and with plenty of people to love, i look at my southern indiana, and its beautiful morning and afternoon and i realize that i'm fine. i'm just fine. things will be ok, and my life will go exactly as according to Someone else's plan.