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Death is bittersweet. This much I've come to realize.
Papou.
Uncle Nick.
Jasmine.
My Papou...he was never the same after losing my Yia Yia. She died July of 2005. At her showing and her funeral, Papou was in a daze. It almost seemed like he was too shocked to believe what was really going on. They had been married for 55 years. My Yia Yia grew exponentially worse when the cancer traveled to her brain, and it was only a matter of time. It all happened so fast, I don't think he could grasp this concept. Months later, he talked to my mom on the phone one day. "I'm mad at your mother," he said. My mom kind of chuckled, thinking he was starting to go a tad loopy, and asked, "Why are you mad at Mom?" His reply was, "I was supposed to go before her. This is too hard." Hearing this story, I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Then his health just went downhill since then. He had so many problems...dementia, Parkinson's, heart problems, and other medical issues. Ultimately, though, what really drove him down was his broken heart. As he approached his time, he was in such an awful state. Then he just fell asleep...the day after Christmas. When he died, a flood of relief soon followed. I was so happy for him. He had suffered for such a long time, and he is finally where he wants to be...with my Yia Yia. As much as I miss him terribly, and still cry over the loss of his human existence...I know that he's up there smiling at me, and I know he's proud of me. He received a military salute and gunshots at his funeral, and I couldn't have more pride for him. I'm proud to say he was my Papou.
My Uncle Nick I didn't know all too well. I'd see him every now and then when we still lived in town. He was married to my Aunt Penny, who moved to the US from Greece when she was 19 years old. My Uncle Nick is the only man she's ever been with, and although I'm not as stricken by his loss, I feel so bad for my Aunt Penny. I seriously hope she'll make it through this. Want to know the funny thing? My Papou and Uncle Nick were the best of friends since they were tots. My Uncle Nick died three days after my Papou. Together forever, even in death. As hard as it's been on all of us, man...what a journey. To leave this life with your best friend....He also received a military salute.
Jasmine, my closest and dearest friend in the entire world. My cat. She was born May 10, 1993. I was three years old then. We got her in October of that year. She was so tiny, she could fit into my dad's hand. She was just a cute ball of black fur with gorgeous, gargantuan gold eyes and a pushed-in face. My mom originally bought Jasmine for herself, but Jasmine didn't want my mom. She adopted me as her companion right away, and she was all mine. Of course she loved everyone in my family, but she was always with me. She slept on my head every single night. My parents had difficulties in deciphering her from my hair. When I was sick, she never left me. If something was wrong, she would grab my mom's attention and let her know that I needed her. She made the move from our trailer to our house, from our house in Ohio to our first apartment in Colorado, then our second apartment, and our house. She lived with dogs, all my little cousins running around, all the craziness that defines our family. When she had her stroke during Homecoming week and we took her to the vet, the vet said that it was so obvious how well-loved Jasmine was. She was put on medication, and within a week she was able to walk again and return to a mostly normal lifestyle. On Christmas day, something went wrong. She returned to the same state she was in after her stroke; she couldn't walk, she couldn't feel her hind legs at all, and I had to hand-feed her and water her through a syringe. Enough was enough. The day after Christmas, we had her put to sleep. I've been a mess ever since. I feel like I've lost part of my identity. She was 14 years old. She had outlived her life expectancy by nearly three years. I really hope that we made her last days meaningful, and I know she's happy now. She's not suffering anymore, and while I may be suffering because of her loss, she will always be watching over me. She was my most treasured friend, and always will be. This loss has definitely affected me the most out of all the recent deaths.
In this time of mourning, I've had a lot of chances to look inside myself in search of things. I feel almost selfish. I sit here, longing and waiting to receive a call that just won't come. I want so badly for someone to reach out and help me to my feet again, because I can't do it on my own at this point.
I've also thought about all the other hard times I've experienced in my life. The list goes on forever. I've dealt with things in my few years so far that most people can't even come close to. Yet...I'm not bothered by these things anymore. Because of all the crap that's happened to me, I have every right to be a recluse...cut myself off from everyone and never trust a soul. I'm not like that, though. I've been able to come through these times and still have a huge heart and an open mind. I feel that these experiences have made me strong, and I want other people to see that.
...Though I'm not sure I have enough strength at this moment to pull myself up again.
I would say a lot more, but I can barely see through this blur of tears.
 Chibi Pierceye · Sun Jan 06, 2008 @ 04:51am · 0 Comments |
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