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... In memory of my Aunt.
16 years ago
There were many things I would have liked to do to help someone who was important in my life. Someone who, when I was small, I remember as being full of laughter.
I remember playing at the bottom of my grandparents stairs. Their house that smelled like old books and delicious food. A pile of ancient lego blocks on the floor that both my cousin and I were far too grown up to be playing with anyway. Jarrod was a lot of fun to hang around with then. We used to build these lego robots and chase Kylie around with them. She loved it. We had a great time.
I also remember Aunt Terry coming to the top of the stairs and telling us to settle down. Of course, she didn't mean it very much. Just the same motherly scolding I knew my own mother would come down to say in a couple of minutes.
I wonder what happened along the way that made things so different. I know it's not true, but part of me feels responsible. Maybe if I had spoken up a bit more, encouraged a bit more. Been myself a bit more. Things would have been different. I know I'm just trying to find a way to fit myself with blame so as to have someone for my family to be angry at.
We always react with anger.
And when my mother called me to tell me that my aunt had passed away, I was overwhelmed with anger. So much anger that I had to sit down and write it or I would go insane. I'm angry at the doctors for failing her, I'm angry at her husband for standing by and doing nothing. I hate myself for being too sick to go and say goodbye. And I hate... it's stupid to hate.
But mostly I'm just sad. Sad to the very core of my being.
Because I know in my heart that she deserved better than what she got. We can only make life work with the hand we've been dealt. And I wish she had been dealt another one. One that hadn't landed her with the person she was wish. One that had made her healthy. One that would give her the strength to fight off the pain she was given. One to get better.
Sometimes I wish she had been given my hand.
If only for my mom. For my family. Because I know that the only thing I can do is to be a shoulder. I can be calm. Collected. I can radiate strength because that's the only thing I can do right now.
I loved my aunt. I really did.
I wish I had been able to fix her.
And I hate myself for failing.
Love,
Dhani
I remember playing at the bottom of my grandparents stairs. Their house that smelled like old books and delicious food. A pile of ancient lego blocks on the floor that both my cousin and I were far too grown up to be playing with anyway. Jarrod was a lot of fun to hang around with then. We used to build these lego robots and chase Kylie around with them. She loved it. We had a great time.
I also remember Aunt Terry coming to the top of the stairs and telling us to settle down. Of course, she didn't mean it very much. Just the same motherly scolding I knew my own mother would come down to say in a couple of minutes.
I wonder what happened along the way that made things so different. I know it's not true, but part of me feels responsible. Maybe if I had spoken up a bit more, encouraged a bit more. Been myself a bit more. Things would have been different. I know I'm just trying to find a way to fit myself with blame so as to have someone for my family to be angry at.
We always react with anger.
And when my mother called me to tell me that my aunt had passed away, I was overwhelmed with anger. So much anger that I had to sit down and write it or I would go insane. I'm angry at the doctors for failing her, I'm angry at her husband for standing by and doing nothing. I hate myself for being too sick to go and say goodbye. And I hate... it's stupid to hate.
But mostly I'm just sad. Sad to the very core of my being.
Because I know in my heart that she deserved better than what she got. We can only make life work with the hand we've been dealt. And I wish she had been dealt another one. One that hadn't landed her with the person she was wish. One that had made her healthy. One that would give her the strength to fight off the pain she was given. One to get better.
Sometimes I wish she had been given my hand.
If only for my mom. For my family. Because I know that the only thing I can do is to be a shoulder. I can be calm. Collected. I can radiate strength because that's the only thing I can do right now.
I loved my aunt. I really did.
I wish I had been able to fix her.
And I hate myself for failing.
Love,
Dhani
The pain and anger will subside eventually, but until then keep the memories you stated here at the forefront. It will keep you sane *hugs*