!

i saw someone die thing summer.
die.
pass away.
kick the bucket.
croak.

that someone was my grandpa.
shut up, i know what you're thinking, i don't want to hear sympathy.
we all know and agree it sucks.
it's life, yes?
there's no reason to skirt around the subject.

this is my fourth grandparent to die.
i only have grandmas now, hah.
i dont rememeber my greatgrandparents death's too well, i was young.
i completely blocked out one grandpa's death, it was still a new subject.
scary territory.
i was terrified to die after that.
terrified.

this though, this was new.
i am able to think independantly now.
i am a scientist.
it was quite fascinating, really.
but thats beside the point.
i understood more.
i understood more than my aunts, who have never dealt with death before.

they tried to reverse it.
pleaded, begged with God.
fools.
im good friends with Jesus, but you can't reverse things like that.
do you think your father, my grandpa, would fare better?
dragging on his life, while he neither eats, drinks, comprehends anything?
the stroke that ended the normal part of his life, of all our lives, irreversible.
do you think it would help grandma?
to let the love of her life to continue on?
suffering.
suffering?
we dont know that for sure.

after the stroke he had his good days, his bad days, the days he'd hit, the days he'd remember..
those days were my favorite.
he never remembered me, but he remembered my grandma. and some days he would apologize and say he appreciates what we're doing for him.
then he would say motherfucking cocksucker.
everyone would giggle.

things carried on like this for a year and a half.
then in july, he took a turn for the worse.
not getting out of bed.
bedsores.
you could see the bone.
two weeks to live, two weeks only.

two weeks to live, and babbling on about newspapers.

one week to live, still babbling about newspapers.

no weeks to live...shit he's still here!

he was one tough old bird, he was.
i told him that.

hospice came, my cousins work for hospice.
they brought books.
i love books.

i devoured these books.

they told of different stories of people's death.
what to say, what not to say.. etc.
fascinating stuff.
my friend Jesus had a lot of say in these books too.
there were a lot of God stories.
i ate those up too.
fascinating.


no weeks to live, and he's still breathing.
gasping, the death rattle, breathing.
eyes half open.
sunken face.
hairs like einstein.
goofy.

july 28.
the breathing changed.
everyone was there.
some people noticed, but by 6:00 there was a noticable difference.
there would be a 4 or 5 second pause inbetween breaths.
each time,
shit is he dead?
oh god is he dead?
fuck!
...oh, thank god.

by midnight there were only two second pauses.
my aunts gained hope.

by that time it was my cousin the hospice lady, my aunt, my dad, my grandma, and myself.
my hospice cousin and i sat in with my grandpa from midnight until 3 am.
she said it wouldn;t be much longer.
fascinated, i couldnt go home.
i wasnt tired.
there really is a death rattle.
it is a rattle.
not like a creepy...thing, but it makes sense.
theres congestion in the chest.
his eyes were open, his mouth was open.
rattling.
the eyes were moving, lids blinking.
moving, looking at people in the room.
people who i could not see.

i read about it in the books.
its one of those see/believe things.
the grandpa i have blocked always talked of his brothers standing by the curtains.
they werent.
this grandpa had no speech, only eye movements.
and that rattle.
i wished i could have seen into his head.
all the beautiful images he must have been seeing.
people i would have no idea who they were, but smiling none the less.
eyes always moving.
i was jealous.

then came the red veins.
blood coagulation.
the knees, elbows, legs...
ugly.
the blood slows down, gathers, and all i kept thinking of was glue.
hah, laughing in the face of death.

then came the blue.

colorful, death is.

the toes starting turning purple.
they got cold.
it wouldnt be much longer.
the feet started getting cold.
farthest away from the heart.
toes started turning blue,
fingers started turning purple.
the cascade of bodily shut down.
fascinating.
the coldness moved up his body.
the rattle continued.

my hospice cousin was convinced her would not 'go' with us in the room.
thats not the type my grandpa was.
modest.
how dare he die in the midst of women?

3 am.
my hospice cousin and i started feeling the early morning pressures of sleep.
then i remembered:
nicaraguan coffee.
strong shit.

i ran home and got it.
she and i drank a pot ourselves.

my father joined us on the second one.

my aunt and grandma are sleeping on the couches.

my father sat in with my grandpa while my aunt and i enjoyed the coffee.
she went to africa.
i went to nicaragua.
we traded stories.
shared laughter, comparison, and thoughts.
but no thoughts of my grandpa.

4 am

no thoughts of my grandpa continued as i showed her pictures.
my dad was still in there.
my stoic father.

4:40 am

'hey, i think, i think this may be it.'
the last words from my dad for a long while.

my hospice cousin and i ran in there while my father woke up my grandma and aunt.

the face was sunken.
the nose rather prominent.
red veins.
blue fingers.
blue toes.
and that damned rattle.

only... wait.

there it is.

my grandma and aunt arrive.

rattle.

hospice cousin: i think that was it. i think hes gone. hes in a better place.

crying starts.

rattle

holy shit that scared me.

that was it.

eyes open, mouth open, colorful.
thats what death looks like.
cloudy eyes, puffiness.
sunken face, prominent nose.
shriveled, prominent nose.
einstein hairs.
red veins.
bedsores.

i cried.
left the room.
left my poor grandma alone with him.

returned.
there was a waxy look about him.
do i see a yellow now?
shame there was no green or orange.
rigimorits set in, couldnt shut the eyes or jaw.
yeesh.

well he's in a better place.

4:44 am.
my father's union number is 444.
my aunt was turning 44 the day after he died.
that is too big of a coincidence.

[fast forward to funeral.

21 gun salute.
21 shells.
15 grandchildren+ 5 children + grandma = 21.]

one flower bloomed that morning.
one day lily of the 50 that were there.
one opened.

This summer has made me think about my faith way more than I ever thought.
I have stared death in the face.
Although it was not me that was going.
That broken man that was lying on the bed,
rattling,
was not my grandfather.
He was simply a shell.
His spirit had already gone on.
You could see it in the eyes.
The eyes never lie.

There is a plan for everyone.
The plan for my grandpa had too many coincidences for it to be a coincidence.
How can you not believe in something after that?
Anything?

fin.

Writer's block.

[[So baby don’t worry, you are my only,
You won’t be lonely, even if the sky is falling down,
You’ll be my only, no need to worry,
Baby are you down down down down down]]


To be told to write something?
No.
You have to have a need to write something.
There really has been one thing on my mind as of late.
It's quite morbid and has to do with the events of the summer.
I do not think I am ready to share.

I will be up at school for the next couple of days.
Moving,
moving,
always moving.
Always going.
Fast.
I would like to get away from fast things.
Fast food, speed dating, speed reading, getting-mad-at-the-old-man-driving-in-front-of-me-because-he-didn't-accelerate-quick-enough-out-of-the-light.
Maybe I should just start running places.
There's something that's not so fast.

Hah.

Dead and gone.

[Sometimes
when you are trying
not to think about something
it keeps popping back into your head.
You can't help it.
You think about it
and
think about it
and
think about it
until your brain
feels like
a squashed pea.
Sharon Creech]

I went through a bunch of high school things today.
I don't know how I feel about that.
I excelled in english.
Now I'm studying biology.
I probably still would excell in english.
I love words and putting them together.

What a difference.

Something special.

[Two strings walk into a bar. The bartender tells them "we don't serve strings in this bar!"

So the strings walk outside, tie themselves into a knot, unravel their ends and walk back in.

The bartender says "Hey, aren't you those two strings that were just in here?"

They replied "No, I'm a frayed knot".]


I love summer.
Windows down, no air, breeze, and no showers.
Don't judge.

I need to open a window, it smells in here.

I like to exercise.
I just wish I wasn't so lazy.
Wouldn't everything be easier then?

My room is a nightmare.
I can barely walk.
I need to pack.
Not yet.
A list has to be made first.

I have so many things to do, so little time.
I need to start waking up earlier.
11 is much too late.

It is too late now.

I wish there were sidewalks in my neighborhood.
Running on the street blows.
But it makes you not want to stop.
You can't let those unknown people in those countless cars see you stop and rest.
No sir.

I feel like something is missing.
To be determined.

Time of Your Song.

Well, it's been over a year my old friend.

Things have changed.
Again, change is the only constant thing in my life.
I have become ok with that.
I look forward to surprises.

This past year I have filled my head with many things, then emptied it, then filled it again.
Tell me what you know.

I defeated mono, and its ability to ruin my swim season.
Alas, chemistry defeated me.
Round two begins Spetember 9.

I am pretty content.
I don't have to deal with the dorms anymore, and I can actually eat healthy because I don't have to deal with the cafe! Hurrah!

I climbed a volcano in 4.5 hours, and fell down it in 3.
Battlescars.
I gave stiches, shots, local anesthetic, and saw giant bugs.
Fed children, saw poverty, and swam in the Pacific for the first time.
I loved it.
All of it.
I may or may not do medical trips once I can do things like that.. in about 8 years, hah.
Nica Nica is the first place on my list.

I've enjoyed this summer.
I've literally done nothing, but I've had fun.
A little too much fun, as my wallet is thin.
I attribute that to good meals, good beers, and good company.

I watched someone die, and learned how to comfort them.
It was a real eye opener, this summer.

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

[keep my feet on the ground and head in the clouds]