Transient Beauty
I had a dream about my grandfather. He was in my grandma's kitchen, sitting at the head of the table. The family was gathered around him, chatting away. It was a family get together and it was snowing out. Christmas time. My grandpa looked like he did the last time I saw him, laying still and silent in his bed. But he was alive here and the twinkle in his eye was back. He was happy and jubilant. It was the first time in many years I had seen him so lively. He moved on his own and spoke in a loud voice above the chatter of my gossiping aunts. He placed his wrinkled hands upon the table top and pushed his chair back. I watched him stand, though I don't know where I was standing. He practically skipped into the kitchen where my grandma was cooking. He was laughing and he hugged her, dancing with her before he went to work helping her around the kitchen. She was laughing, too. I smiled even though I was sad.
I met a friend whom I became very close to very quickly. We shared so many different things together. Our love of writing and staying up late and talking about various TV shows and books. She was my best friend and I would've done anything for her. But then we got into an argument over something silly and she hated me for it. I found out the awful things she had said behind my back, outweighing the cruel words she had spoken to my face. I hated her for it. So I abandoned her because I felt betrayed. I cut my ties with her forever. I seethed in my hatred and wallowed in my hurt feelings. But then I paused and looked back at all the things she gave me. The times she made me smile and laugh; the appreciation she gave me for my own life as hers was often very sad; the love for things I had never loved before. I smiled even though I was sad.
When I was nine, they found out I had a brain tumor. At the time, it was not life threatening. But they told us that if nothing was done, it would keep growing and finally reach my brain. No doctor would operate to try and remove the tumor. They told my parents my best chance was to receive radiation therapy and hope its growth would slow down. But my parents wanted it gone. At the Boston Children's Hospital, we found a surgeon who was willing to operate. As she looked at my MRI scans and then at me, she smiled at me and told me she would help me not be sick anymore. I'm now twenty years old and the tumor is still gone.
Our lives and the people who change them, for better or for worse... for however long they stay... and those moments that allow us to smile, even during our darkest times... That is transient beauty.
Posted @ linebyline