death&dying

After a year, I still carry the scars from my grandfather's death. So many people tell me that I should be rejoicing that he is in a better place and/or that I shouldn't linger because everyone dies. Yes, everyone dies. It's been a year since my grandfather passed away, and two years since my uncle passed away. I know the impact the death of someone close has on family because it happened twice only a year apart. I watched my mother cry uncontrollably after hearing about her older brother and I vividly remember my own stoic response when I heard the news. As awful as it sounds, my uncle's death did not shake the earth for me. I consoled my mother during mass that night, and later at the wake, I took care of everything while everyone else prayed for God to have mercy on his soul. Yet, I never cried. I don't know if I was in shock or disbelief but I didn't cry over my uncle's death until a year later when I was packing for Korea. I was thinking about how I get to see my family after being absent from their lives for over 10 years, when I realized I wouldn't be able to see my uncle. Honestly, I cried more over the fact that I had so little time with such a great man than his death. I grew up listening to my mom telling me stories from her childhood with my uncle, those were always my favorite. I wasn't surprised when he passed away. My uncle had been sick all his life and went to the hospital 3 times a day for dialysis. For him, passing away in his sleep was the least amount of pain he felt all of his life He was in his late 40s, a father of 3, a brother to 2, and an only son. His death was fleeting only brought back into my memory whenever he's mentioned. Everyone dies, including family and loved ones.

My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer over a year ago, but they discovered it too late and he opted out of treatment. The doctor told him that he had 6 months at most. This was our reason for going to Korea. Before we left, my mom pulled me aside to tell me to prepare myself for the worst, that my grandfather was in pretty bad condition since he denied chemotherapy. I kept thinking, "Whats the worst that could happen?" Apparently, my optimism for the situation ended up screwing me over when I got there. We landed in Incheon around 3 AM. It was foggy, humid, and dark. I should have known that scary weather is a precursor to something bad happening. I woke up the next morning, bright and early, excited to see my grandparents. But the person I met that morning was a shell of someone I used to know. He was pale, thin, and hunched over in pain. It was heartbreaking to see someone so strong defeated by an illness. There wasn't much I could do, he just sat there staring away at the tv. To this day, I wonder if he noticed that I was there that morning, that I sat next to him, that I held his hand, that I hugged him. Maybe, maybe not. That afternoon, he was hospitalized for liver failure. This was the beginning of the worst memory of my life. For the few days I spent in Incheon, I was in the hospital tending to my grandfather, hoping for a miracle, for anything. The next day, his kidneys started to shut down. The doctor put in an iv and left. The whole time, he kept asking for yogorute (a korean yogurt drink and my grandfather's favorite). He asked for days and I said no for days. His body could no longer process beverages or food, so we had to keep denying his last request. "I'm so thirsty..." such a simple phrase in everyday life...yet, to me, it means so much more. I couldn't even fulfill a request as simple as a drink. A couple days later, we left for Seoul and I never went back. I couldn't bare walking into that room again, having to watch someone I love fade away. So in the end, I never said good-bye. I never told him how much I love him. I never told him how much I missed him. I never told him how much he means to him. I never thanked him for all that he's done for me. I never got to say good-bye. It's these things that haunt a person.

A month later, we got a phone call from Korea. My grandfather passed away. I locked myself away and cried the rest of the day. I cried at mass, I cried the wake, and I cried myself to sleep. I had nightmares for month and woke up gasping for air and tears staining my pillow. It was the same hospital scenes replaying in my sleep, over and over and over again. "I'm so thirsty...Why do you keep saying no?" I couldn't help but think...did he hate me when he passed away? Was the last memory he held of me of the one saying no? Did he pass away miserable? Did he die thinking we abandon him...that I abandoned him...?

It's been a year and I still haven't gotten over it.

the "it" plague

Life takes us to interesting places and leads us down paths that we may ultimately not be ready for. But what can we do? Take a detour? "Oh sorry Life, I'm just not ready for that road. Bring me back here in...hmm...let's say 5 years? How does that sound?" HA-HA-HA. Like Life would agree to that. We'll eventually come back to the same place and end up where we didn't want to be the first time around. So instead of avoiding what may happen tomorrow or 10 years down the line, why not just take a different approach?

There are things in our lives that we so desperately want to control. Within the insane chaos of my own, I felt that controlling that one thing or object or whatever it was gave me some sort of security and reassurance. I thought I needed it to be able to get away from the life I couldn't control. Sure, I have hopes and dreams, short term goals and long term goals, and ambitions, but there is so little control of the outcome that I desire when I still live under the tyrannical rule of the parental units. (Well...they aren't that tyrannical but you get my drift...or maybe you don't...think "Asian Parents"). Anyways, in the end, I was hurt by it more than helped.

So a large part of me gave up. Not in a bad, "the world is coming to an end," kind of way, but more of a "maybe if I stopped caring so much, it'll just happen the way I want it to." Naive, but I learned that it's better to be hopeful than to be stressed out about things that are out of my grasp. Although, I don't think I'll ever stop being frustrated about it. "IT," yes, I'm being vague, but we all have our own "its" so fill in whatever yours is. No matter how much I want 'it' to change ('it' being anything, get over the vagueness), I don't think it ever will. And honestly, I don't know if I'm okay with that. Sure, I tell myself, "you're okay with it...you'll get used to it...eventually." But will I really? Will we all really be okay with our "its?" Stupid internal plagues...anyone know a good exterminator?

I still hold hope that one day my 'it' will disappate into nothing but a bad dream. (I know I know, cliche alert!) But really, I hope it will...I know that it will never happen. Still, I think I'll hold on for now.

shitdamnfuck

I sit here listening to the consistent ticking as time continues on, minute by minute, second by second, and it becomes hours later that I start to wonder how I got to this moment. All the while the humidity of the outdoor seeps in through the cracks of my window, only noticeable by the slight gleen on my skin...glistening in the artificial light of a dimly lit room. After staring at the mockingly bright screen, I realized that so much of myself was lost getting to this point in my life. So where do I take claim for the actions that led me here? Was it when I never developed the courage to walk away? Or when I thought that fitting in would mean that I wouldn't be so lost? But no matter the reason, I'm lost in a sea of matter, people, dislikes and likes, hatred, love, and everything else that encompasses life. But how far am I willing to go to search for what I have lost? How much am I willing to sacrifice to find whatever it is that I feel so strongly that I've lost...? Right now, it seems like an endless journey with no positive end or even an end at all. And reality comes crashing down when the "The End" isn't really the end and no matter what happened or happens, that bitch, reality (the one we all hate), keeps dragging us alongside of her as we slammed against all the potholes and speed bumps.
So how did I get to this point? Let's see...I took a left turn at the first street, then a right, and another right...or was that a left? It seems that I can't recall how I even got here...or maybe I can. It's a nice emotion called Love. Well...sometimes it's nice and other times, it's a mean, vicious, 'drag me to hell' type. Some of us spend our entire lives searching for "the One," "Prince Charming," our "knight in shining armor" but in all honesty, that guy you passed by while searching for "Mr. Right," yeah, that one, the one you scoffed at and looked right past him...he's the closest thing you'll find to your soul mate. So why waste all your time looking for something that may not exist when the one you've been looking for is right there. This is exactly the type of mentality that got me into all this trouble in the first place. "Don't do it." "Why not?" "I'm going to do it." "What if I regret it?" "OF COURSE I'LL REGRET IT!" "I'm not going to do it." "shitdamnfuck." Exactly my point. The whole "take it as it comes" outlook on life is the worst advice anyone has given to another human being. Seriously? Why couldn't you have come up with something more useful?! Anyways, through and through, especially with rough storms on the edge, the only thing that runs through my mind is a typical hopeless romantic's mantra: hug me. kiss me. hold me. love me. want me. need me. Stupid mantra...some help you were. Even as stupid as I feel like it is, I can't help it as those words constantly repeat themselves in my mind, my heart, and eventually echo throughout my soul. 


There has been more than one time where I've wanted to give up because lovewasn't worth it anymore. This emotion love...why do we want it so much? Why do build our lives on this emotion that at the end of the day can break down all of our hard work? What is so great about love? (insert sappy love quotes) AHA!...yeah no. Yes, even though I've become cynical on this whole love deal, doesn't mean I don't believe in it. I wouldn't be so cynical about the matter if I sold my soul to this lovething....Love opens up so many different worlds where a myriad of emotions exist some harsher than love, some deeper than love, and some stronger than love. So in the mix of all the emotions flying around, where do we fit in? 


Love vs. In Love ...where do your needs fit in...where do my needs fit...when will you ever put me before yourself...when will you realize that its me you've been looking for...when will you notice me?