Jan 20, 2011 01:19
I have picked up this terrible habit from dad. I keep just about every little crap I find/got given/impulse buy - and still I buy more. If I ever get a giant house, it could possibly be divided up to 3 parts: impossibly fake antiques section; pink crap; wannabe modernistic. And all of them, to a certain degree, will be filled with random books from different points in my life. if I ever have children, it will be a disaster, post-mortem, to clean up the shit I left behind.
A long summer night ago, someone I knew passed away quite suddenly. The family was in complete denial right up to the day before X passed away. They were determined that the doctor was wrong, since doctors made mistakes anyway, and wanted to spend some time in a certain place with X.
But, X has been diagnosed with a terminal disease for a long time. that she had lasted that long was quite miraculous. That she had survived alot of betrayals along the way was equally amazing. In short, her life has come a full circle and it was time she moved on.
The family, as I said, was in denial. During the time they had, they kept pushing many things till “tomorrow”. Particularly, because part of the betrayal involved the legalities should X pass away, it was never fully looked into.
And then X died. there were no longer any more time, good byes were never said properly due to the denial, legalities has ensued. Worst of all, it was quite possible that despite all the time, effort, love and so on that has been put into the care of X’s final days, it was likely that not a single possession will remain in that particular family nucleus.
As V, X’s sister, started cleaning up X’s room just before the funeral, she did not know what to do. There were no boxes, just many bags or sheets made into temporary bags. X’s room was lovingly filled with the things she once loved, hobbies she used to enjoy, movies she watched. In those make-shift bags, that was all that was left of X’s life and V suddenly crumpled.
She teared with every item she had to put aside. “This was her wedding present.” “I was jealous of her having this.” “We thought she stole this from a shop…” With every item, laid a part of X’s life story, a part of her soul.
Emotionally, V didn’t make it through the night. The denial and grief finally overcame her, and she sat there fondling, more than packing, the very items that made X, X. We sat down together and hugged tight, there were no words that could console her, neither were there words enough to describe her loss and grief.
random,
pollyanna