Death. Angels. Heaven. New Life.
((I know this entry is long, but I promise …it’s worth reading. Maybe you’ll learn something about yourself too.))
I’m aware I talk about death a lot, but the other night Lindsay brought it to my attention. I had never really noticed that others have noticed my “obsession” per se with death. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to die long before my time, but it’s just something that I always think about. I know it’s not a good thing for an eighteen year old, college freshmen to “obsess” with death, but it’s always right there, staring you in the face. However, I don’t believe death is also a bad thing. I believe we become angels and ascend to Heaven to be with our family and friends who have passed on before us. When someone I love dies, I mourn their deaths, but also, in my own way, celebrate their new lives in Heaven. It’s comforting to know my grandparents and Lou are happy and healthy in Heaven. To know they’re now angels and no longer in pain. Cancer can not eat away at my grandfather, my grandmother can breathe on her own again, and Lou can finally be happy and content. These reasons bring me comfort. I want them to be happy and safe. Although there is not a day that goes by where I don’t miss them and wish they were here, but even at those times I feel selfish to have asked for them to be in another second of pain just because I need and want them here.
After Thanksgiving in 1999 my uncle, Michael, had a brain aneurism and spent over a month in the Intensive Care Unit at a hospital in Philadelphia. The statistics are about 5 in 100,000 survive this disease. Luckily my uncle made it out alive, but that’s also with a surgery every day to save his life. There was a while where we thought he was going to die and believe me I was not ready to lose my uncle. We were strong for him and he made it through. He also had a chance of being mentally retarded or losing his memory. I could not stand to think my uncle would not remember my name or anything about me. I’m grateful for having him here today and not a day goes by where I don’t thank God for him…well, except the days he drives me crazy…hah! I’m just kidding, I love him to death!
I was thirteen years old and in eighth grade when my grandparents died. Each time it was a phone call that delivered that awful news. I can still remember the beautiful March morning as birds were chirping outside my window. I claimed nothing could go wrong or ruin my day. When I got home from school my mom was standing with the phone in her hand and told me the news, “Michaela, Granny died.” I was stunned. I remember thinking, “You’re not crying! What are you doing? Granny’s gone!” Then in the instant I broke into tears as my mom hung up the phone. I, then, felt bad for saying how great of a day I had, had, for thinking it was a beautiful day, and for being so happy before I found out the news. To then know while I was having a wonderful day, my grandmother was dying…I felt like the worst person in the world.
Five days later. . .
My mom called me upstairs because my dad was on the phone and wanted to talk to me. I got on the phone and I heard the cracks in his voice. I knew then something was wrong, but wanted to avoid the entire subject. He asked me the “normal” questions and then said, “Kila, I have to tell you something.” I interrupted him with, “Don’t tell me my grandfather died!” He proceeded to say, “This morning.” I then said, “Daddy, I have to go.” I dropped the phone and ran downstairs. I collapsed on the dining room floor and I tried to tie my shoes. I knew I needed to see Meghan. (Meghan lived across the street from me and had lost her grandfather too. She was very close to him and I knew she’d understand.) My mom came downstairs and asked what I was doing, when I told her she went to get Meghan while I went to my room and cried.
My grandfather was my best friend! He could do no wrong in my eyes and still to this day I cherish and am grateful for every moment I spent with him. I love him and miss him dearly. I regret not going to visit him when he called me a week before he died. He was begging me and I turned him down. I was selfish to have said I wasn’t doing well in school and couldn’t visit him at the moment. He even begged my mom!! All he wanted was to see me before he died and I couldn’t even give him that. I had a chance to see him and I gave that up for a few lousy grades! I know he has forgiven me, but for the rest of my life I will regret not jumping on the next plane to Ireland to see him before he died. He needed me.
After they died I used to see shadows of black figures wherever I went, as if they were following me. I knew the shadows belonged to my grandparents, but still I was afraid…comforted, but afraid. It wasn’t until the shadows recognized my fear that they ran and hid. When turned around I could see a shadow dodge behind a wall or a bush. My mom told me to ask them to go away, so I sat in the middle of my room and asked them to leave. I reminded them of how much I love them and miss them, but that they were frightening me and that I couldn’t see the black shadows. However, I did ask for them to come in other forms…symbols, things we did together, songs, and movies.
A few nights later I felt a cold hand brush across my face and I heard my grandmother’s voice, “Ack, Michael, remember the last time? You’ll frighten her.” The next night I heard my grandmother’s voice again, “Michaela, I have to go and visit your cousins. I’ll always be here for you, but if you need me, sing the song we always used to sing. I love you!” That weekend I went to the shore to visit my cousins, Candace and Ryan. I told Candace everything that had happened and she was frightened. We even had to sleep with the lights on. The next time I told her I would stay awake until she fell asleep, but once she did I couldn’t sleep. I knew if she woke up frightened and couldn’t wake me she would be terrified. I stayed awake all night, just in case. When I woke up in the morning and looked out the sliding glass door, I saw the dark shadow in the morning sun trying to hide behind the wall and I was no longer afraid. I knew then that I was safe.
I have dreams of my grandparents often and I truly believe when I hug them that I am hugging them for real. Just as if I could pull them out of my dreams and truly hug them. It’s sad, but comforting to know that a part of me can still see, feel, and hear them. I love them and miss them everyday!!
March 13, 2000 & March 18, 2000 …the day God took you home! <33 True love and devotion!
* *
During high school I used to take naps when I came home because I wanted to “sleep my day away.” I wanted the days to end as soon as possible because I didn’t want to leave them. My mom knew I did this because I was depressed, but I didn’t know what was depressing me. I have a wonderful family and amazing friends, but for some reason, I wanted to sleep every day away as if struggling to get to the next. Luckily I don’t sleep my days away anymore, but sometimes I feel like crawling back into bed and just staying there for a while…maybe forever, but I am truly grateful for my loved ones that no longer allow me to have that chance.
* *
It’s hard now to think at my age we can postpone death because we can’t. Ever since Louis died I’ve realized that we’re not invisible to the terrible things that can happen. Our age does not protect us from anything. This is my new fear of death…that someone else I love and care about will abruptly die and be taken away from me.
To my wonderful friends - I’m sorry for being over protective and wanting to make sure you’re okay, but please know that I do this because I care about you and love you. I don’t want to lose you, therefore I nag. I’m sorry if you know not to drive drunk and my reminding you drives you crazy, but I do it because I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry if wearing a seat belt bothers you, but it could save your life. I’m sorry if my reminding you about the effects of smoking on the human body annoys you, please know I do it because I want you to be healthy. I’m sorry if I worry about you while you’re drinking and who you’re with. Please know I worry because I care about you and want you to stick around. Please know I do all these things because I love you and care about you. I don’t want to lose you.
Love Always, Ki :o)
“It is better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all.”
“I hate missing you, but I love having you to miss.”
March 13, 2000 ~ Granny
March 18, 2000 ~ Granda
November 16, 2003 ~ Mr. & Mrs. Carosi
October 30, 2004 ~ Louis
<33
I’m aware I talk about death a lot, but the other night Lindsay brought it to my attention. I had never really noticed that others have noticed my “obsession” per se with death. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to die long before my time, but it’s just something that I always think about. I know it’s not a good thing for an eighteen year old, college freshmen to “obsess” with death, but it’s always right there, staring you in the face. However, I don’t believe death is also a bad thing. I believe we become angels and ascend to Heaven to be with our family and friends who have passed on before us. When someone I love dies, I mourn their deaths, but also, in my own way, celebrate their new lives in Heaven. It’s comforting to know my grandparents and Lou are happy and healthy in Heaven. To know they’re now angels and no longer in pain. Cancer can not eat away at my grandfather, my grandmother can breathe on her own again, and Lou can finally be happy and content. These reasons bring me comfort. I want them to be happy and safe. Although there is not a day that goes by where I don’t miss them and wish they were here, but even at those times I feel selfish to have asked for them to be in another second of pain just because I need and want them here.
After Thanksgiving in 1999 my uncle, Michael, had a brain aneurism and spent over a month in the Intensive Care Unit at a hospital in Philadelphia. The statistics are about 5 in 100,000 survive this disease. Luckily my uncle made it out alive, but that’s also with a surgery every day to save his life. There was a while where we thought he was going to die and believe me I was not ready to lose my uncle. We were strong for him and he made it through. He also had a chance of being mentally retarded or losing his memory. I could not stand to think my uncle would not remember my name or anything about me. I’m grateful for having him here today and not a day goes by where I don’t thank God for him…well, except the days he drives me crazy…hah! I’m just kidding, I love him to death!
I was thirteen years old and in eighth grade when my grandparents died. Each time it was a phone call that delivered that awful news. I can still remember the beautiful March morning as birds were chirping outside my window. I claimed nothing could go wrong or ruin my day. When I got home from school my mom was standing with the phone in her hand and told me the news, “Michaela, Granny died.” I was stunned. I remember thinking, “You’re not crying! What are you doing? Granny’s gone!” Then in the instant I broke into tears as my mom hung up the phone. I, then, felt bad for saying how great of a day I had, had, for thinking it was a beautiful day, and for being so happy before I found out the news. To then know while I was having a wonderful day, my grandmother was dying…I felt like the worst person in the world.
Five days later. . .
My mom called me upstairs because my dad was on the phone and wanted to talk to me. I got on the phone and I heard the cracks in his voice. I knew then something was wrong, but wanted to avoid the entire subject. He asked me the “normal” questions and then said, “Kila, I have to tell you something.” I interrupted him with, “Don’t tell me my grandfather died!” He proceeded to say, “This morning.” I then said, “Daddy, I have to go.” I dropped the phone and ran downstairs. I collapsed on the dining room floor and I tried to tie my shoes. I knew I needed to see Meghan. (Meghan lived across the street from me and had lost her grandfather too. She was very close to him and I knew she’d understand.) My mom came downstairs and asked what I was doing, when I told her she went to get Meghan while I went to my room and cried.
My grandfather was my best friend! He could do no wrong in my eyes and still to this day I cherish and am grateful for every moment I spent with him. I love him and miss him dearly. I regret not going to visit him when he called me a week before he died. He was begging me and I turned him down. I was selfish to have said I wasn’t doing well in school and couldn’t visit him at the moment. He even begged my mom!! All he wanted was to see me before he died and I couldn’t even give him that. I had a chance to see him and I gave that up for a few lousy grades! I know he has forgiven me, but for the rest of my life I will regret not jumping on the next plane to Ireland to see him before he died. He needed me.
After they died I used to see shadows of black figures wherever I went, as if they were following me. I knew the shadows belonged to my grandparents, but still I was afraid…comforted, but afraid. It wasn’t until the shadows recognized my fear that they ran and hid. When turned around I could see a shadow dodge behind a wall or a bush. My mom told me to ask them to go away, so I sat in the middle of my room and asked them to leave. I reminded them of how much I love them and miss them, but that they were frightening me and that I couldn’t see the black shadows. However, I did ask for them to come in other forms…symbols, things we did together, songs, and movies.
A few nights later I felt a cold hand brush across my face and I heard my grandmother’s voice, “Ack, Michael, remember the last time? You’ll frighten her.” The next night I heard my grandmother’s voice again, “Michaela, I have to go and visit your cousins. I’ll always be here for you, but if you need me, sing the song we always used to sing. I love you!” That weekend I went to the shore to visit my cousins, Candace and Ryan. I told Candace everything that had happened and she was frightened. We even had to sleep with the lights on. The next time I told her I would stay awake until she fell asleep, but once she did I couldn’t sleep. I knew if she woke up frightened and couldn’t wake me she would be terrified. I stayed awake all night, just in case. When I woke up in the morning and looked out the sliding glass door, I saw the dark shadow in the morning sun trying to hide behind the wall and I was no longer afraid. I knew then that I was safe.
I have dreams of my grandparents often and I truly believe when I hug them that I am hugging them for real. Just as if I could pull them out of my dreams and truly hug them. It’s sad, but comforting to know that a part of me can still see, feel, and hear them. I love them and miss them everyday!!
March 13, 2000 & March 18, 2000 …the day God took you home! <33 True love and devotion!
* *
During high school I used to take naps when I came home because I wanted to “sleep my day away.” I wanted the days to end as soon as possible because I didn’t want to leave them. My mom knew I did this because I was depressed, but I didn’t know what was depressing me. I have a wonderful family and amazing friends, but for some reason, I wanted to sleep every day away as if struggling to get to the next. Luckily I don’t sleep my days away anymore, but sometimes I feel like crawling back into bed and just staying there for a while…maybe forever, but I am truly grateful for my loved ones that no longer allow me to have that chance.
* *
It’s hard now to think at my age we can postpone death because we can’t. Ever since Louis died I’ve realized that we’re not invisible to the terrible things that can happen. Our age does not protect us from anything. This is my new fear of death…that someone else I love and care about will abruptly die and be taken away from me.
To my wonderful friends - I’m sorry for being over protective and wanting to make sure you’re okay, but please know that I do this because I care about you and love you. I don’t want to lose you, therefore I nag. I’m sorry if you know not to drive drunk and my reminding you drives you crazy, but I do it because I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry if wearing a seat belt bothers you, but it could save your life. I’m sorry if my reminding you about the effects of smoking on the human body annoys you, please know I do it because I want you to be healthy. I’m sorry if I worry about you while you’re drinking and who you’re with. Please know I worry because I care about you and want you to stick around. Please know I do all these things because I love you and care about you. I don’t want to lose you.
Love Always, Ki :o)
“It is better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all.”
“I hate missing you, but I love having you to miss.”
March 13, 2000 ~ Granny
March 18, 2000 ~ Granda
November 16, 2003 ~ Mr. & Mrs. Carosi
October 30, 2004 ~ Louis
<33