So for the last couple of days, I didn't know what to write. You know how some things are so personal, you can't even write it. Your thoughts are consumed by it, but you can't bring yourself to write. Well, I've finally realized that I must write this so I will not forget. Last Thursday I had a dream. The dream itself was so picturesque that I felt like I was in a painting. In the dream, me and my mom were walking on a two lane highway; a forsaken highway, where only huge trucks drive on it occassionally. The land was a red, clay-like color and completely barren. It was if I was in the desert, and even cactuses couldn't grow there-possibly something like the barren lands of New Mexico. It was so hot, and it was disgusting breathing warm air. All I wanted was a breath of cool air. Yet, amidst all of this, the sky was a phenomenal color- crimson reds, golden yellows, rich oranges. All of the colors were intertwining, flowing together in unison. The harmony of the colors was amazing, and it grew even more so as the sun began to set. As we are walking, each lost in her own thoughts, my mom turns to me and says," Well, you know she won't be with us much longer. She's dying." With that, she turns and looks towards the sunset. Slowly, tears start to roll down my eyes. Hot, wet tears which turn into steady streams. I start to weep unabashedly, and the tears flow even harder until I begin to shake almost to the point where I fall on the ground. I remember watching myself in the dream, and slowly, me, in the dream, realizes that I am being watched. I stop shaking, the tears stop flowing as heavily, and I begin to wipe my eyes and gain composure. I wake up thinking that my aunt has really died.
Sunday night at 12 am, my dad tells me that things have turned for the worse and my mom has been called back to the hospital. At 12:30 am we receive a call: my aunt has died. Apparently, after the reacurring gastrointestinal bleeding, her blood pressure began to drop, and they found out that her lungs were filling up with water, and then her heart just over exerted itself, and stopped working.
And the circle is complete-began with life and ended with death. Gone. Just like that. One day she's here, and the next she's gone forever. Some say people live on through memories. Yet, with time memories die. It's a slow, gradual process- a subliminal chipping away. I just can't stop saying: She's gone.
My poor mother and grandmother. To out live your oldest daughter, and to see your sister pass away is something no one should ever experience. I thought, well if I pray more or act more serious towards it, maybe I could stop death. Was it really her time to go? At 53...that's it? Was it predestined for her to only live for 53 years, and then one day, that's it, she's gone? Or is death, really the beginning of life? A whole new life...
4:56 PM 0 Falling Stars
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