(no subject)
yesterday, i was dreaming.
i forget of what, i think it involved snakes, a snake lost in my house, and i was apoplectic, as i am highly creeped out by snakes.
i was awoken by my dad
"go down, and sit by ma"
"why?"
"chotu died."
i sprung off of the teeny armchair that i was had squeezed myself into.
i should have run downstairs (actually i shouldn't have, because of my ankle)
but i didn't
i floated, drifted downstairs, levitated by my immense confusion at what was going on.
he was my uncle, by virtue that the age range of my grandmother's family runs the gamut.
he died of a viral fever that turned into a stroke that turned into a blood clot in his brain that turned into an aneurysm.
chotu was 26.
my mother asked me tearfully how many more they were going to take.
(he had lost his mother three years before. my great-aunt)
i didn't know what to say; i couldn't even ask who the "they" she was referring to was.
i was rendered speechless.
even in these moments, i cannot cry.
chotu, she sobbed, is [was] four years older than my brother. only four.
i place him with
james dean
marilyn
heath ledger.
i used to believe everything happens for a reason.
in fact, a scrubs episode was on today that espoused this very cliche.
but i can't, anymore.
"we have these bad feelings, we fight with people, we get mad at them...and then life just ends. you have to love them while you can, you have to."
i am in awe that my mother, in all her sadness, is still incredibly wise.
and that is an order i am fully willing to take.
i forget of what, i think it involved snakes, a snake lost in my house, and i was apoplectic, as i am highly creeped out by snakes.
i was awoken by my dad
"go down, and sit by ma"
"why?"
"chotu died."
i sprung off of the teeny armchair that i was had squeezed myself into.
i should have run downstairs (actually i shouldn't have, because of my ankle)
but i didn't
i floated, drifted downstairs, levitated by my immense confusion at what was going on.
he was my uncle, by virtue that the age range of my grandmother's family runs the gamut.
he died of a viral fever that turned into a stroke that turned into a blood clot in his brain that turned into an aneurysm.
chotu was 26.
my mother asked me tearfully how many more they were going to take.
(he had lost his mother three years before. my great-aunt)
i didn't know what to say; i couldn't even ask who the "they" she was referring to was.
i was rendered speechless.
even in these moments, i cannot cry.
chotu, she sobbed, is [was] four years older than my brother. only four.
i place him with
james dean
marilyn
heath ledger.
i used to believe everything happens for a reason.
in fact, a scrubs episode was on today that espoused this very cliche.
but i can't, anymore.
"we have these bad feelings, we fight with people, we get mad at them...and then life just ends. you have to love them while you can, you have to."
i am in awe that my mother, in all her sadness, is still incredibly wise.
and that is an order i am fully willing to take.