The night starts here... forget your name... forget your fear...
You drop a coin... into the sea... and shout out "Please come back to me"...
You name your child... after your fear... and tell them "I have brought you here"...

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Serious Musings

You would think that everyone had a time limit, a limit that depended on their actions, their dreams, their lesson to be learnt in life, and maybe it also depended on how their end would affect the people around them, how it would teach them a lesson that would help those people in their lives, the people who glanced, knew, cared or loved them.

A life and death of a beloved could teach you how to be loved, how to be happy, how to love, and in the end how to strengthen yourself and how to move on. These lessons are painful to go through, but what lessons aren't?

Death has been lurking at my doorstep recently, and will come knocking again soon if things continue as they are, which they most likely will. And sometimes it so hard to watch the after effect of his presence, even worse to anticipate his return, all I can hope and wish so much is that in the end it all has a meaning to it- that there is some great lesson to be learnt in the aftermath of so much grief, dread and heartbreak.

Who can see the fairness of a young, 20-something kid falling off his longboard and knocking his head the wrong way, effectively taking out any chance of his long awaited anticipated successful career as a professional longboarder, effectively taking a piece out of the people that knew, cared, loved and needed him in their lives.

Who can see the fairness of knowing that your body is slowly dissolving into ash, that in five years you know that your immune system will kill you? Your youngest child won't even be 10. your eldest won't even be 15.

Where's the fairness in watching your father die at the breakfast table when you were 11 years old, watch your mother die of a stoke covered in bed sores from the amount of time that she was trapped in her bed, only to find out a few months later that you are dying from the same disease that killed your father, realistically you have 2 years to spend with your husband and children, you will never have the pleasure of seeing your children marry, never have the pleasure of meeting your grandchildren, never have the pleasure of growing old with your husband.

None of these people are me, but I belong to the group that can only watch, helpless as the people around you are slowly slipping further and further away from me. I hate being helpless.

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