Wednesday, April 15, 2009
...the last time i held his hand
my grandpa is losing his battle with cancer and is waiting for my mom and i to come and say goodbye.
i have been fearing this moment since i was a small child. in fact i used to imagine them dead, all of them, mothers, fathers, grandparents, aunts, uncles; no one was safe from my mental holocaust... all in an effort to prepare myself for the actual day they die. and i would cry in my bed, in the dark, until my sobs were only the shape of my mouth, utterly void of sound. did it work? no. not really.
i wont sit here and describe how i feel, because anyone who has lost someone knows what this feels like. however, i would like to share that i am struck with the accute horror that when i lose my parents, it will be twice this much sadness, respectively.
and i will add that my grandfather is dying from the same cancer that my dad had. and they are not related. they both developed tumors in the same spot, the same year, almost the same month. so i get the joy of having one cancer patient survive, and the despair of one dying. seems like my joy should balance out my sadness, and i would feel nothingness? why cant emotions be logical like that?