Its 2:00 am, and I'm at my local dive bar that helps me indulge on my vices, addictions and many more terrible habits. But, its time to go. last call. drink them up and get out. After a brief argument with bartender about what it is that makes him an asshole (the fact that he wont let me buy drinks passed 2am) Im escorted to the door...a few quick wrestling moves and the bouncers gorilla arms are off me. There huge man yells something like "come back...shit". But it doesn't matter...my attention has been captured by this young girl looking straight at me. Dark hair and dark eyes that tell me we have met before. But where?... And more important why do i remember her? Awkward pause for a brief second...then...she smiles...the feeling hits before the memory. Starting at the stomach and working its way up my spine to my brain...I smile back. I remember her now...
***Brief History***
Its 2002 late summer, and i think i had just broken up with my then high school girlfriend at the time. Well I'm working and feeling pretty down, just sort of skating through the days...then I happen to start working with this girl and we get along pretty well and she ends up being pretty cool. We talk and laugh but I never actually get the vibe or feel any sense that she was into me as more than just a friend. Anyway so after a couple of months I finally get the nerve and get her number (I was a very different person back then, wasn't as confident in myself as i am now). So i eventually ask her out and we go out have a good time... I cant remember exactly what we did i think we went to go eat or something along that line, anyway its the end of the night and mind you by this time we had been talking for months. It was a full time job so i saw her at least 3-5 five days a week. we could of started going out no need for a date. But it was more I guess just to confirm our feelings for each other. So the night ends were in my car talking and i finally nut up and lean in to kiss her. Im not sure if she wanted me to but i did...and she does exactly what my lurking suspicion was telling me...she turns her head! and puts her arms up!...she didn't want to kiss me...a crash that is comparable to the twin towers and the Hindenburg...we say good bye and she goes inside...I swung for the fence and struck out. (little did I know that that was only the beginning of what would soon to be the worst batting average of a mans starting career in man kinds history!)..anyway, time went on and we talked less and less i guess the awkwardness was just to much...shortly after that i got fired. and that was that.
***back to reality***
The feeling from the past struck deep. We talk about what we are dong and what we used to do. She tells me about her marriage and kid (ya,I know). After a short while I tell her about how i used to be really into her...after a few more moments I discover that the reason she didn't kiss me is that she had never kissed a guy. And that she was scared to. When she left the car and went inside she was angry at herself for not going through with it...she thought I didn't want to be with her after that and was to embarrassed to come up to me and tell me how she felt...we looked at each other with a look that knows that there could of been something great, with a look that in another time and place, maybe in some other universe we could have had...something. But, we were no longer those people and that time had passed...(deep breath)...regret my friends is a terrible thing to experience. And I felt it then and there...we both did. The kind of regret that sticks with you whether you recognize it or not. The kind that sticks with you years later and leaves you thinking "What if?"....She later told me that she would often think about what would of happened had we ended up together. I tell here that sometimes I had thoughts about the same thing. Just thoughts, but i did have them.
We said our goodbyes and she walked away. I thought about her the for sometime after I left. I don't know if Im glad I saw her or if it just added to the painful regret of those days. But, I know now for certain that a lesson has been learned, and I will never let someone who I care about slip away again.
I leave you with one of my favorite quotes:
"I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather
that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be
stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me
in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of
man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to
prolong them. I shall use my time."
-Jack London
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
memorize everything
Memories of past times and events run through my mind right now. Weird how you never know that you are making memories or which event in the day will be one that sticks around for years. I have a memory of me and my cousins swimming in a pool every summer. An above ground pool that we would all immediately dive into after we got home from elementary school...that memory will never fade. Or the first time I had a crush on a girl and told her... and the first time i got my heart broken. (same day). All these times I didn't know that those very moments would stick with me for many many years...The other day I was eating with my family at a restaurant (ok Taqueria) and I realized that that exact moment would become a one of those memories. I still don't know what it was that made me step out of the moment, but I realized that this moment with my family was perfect and that it was going to be a memory that would be with me forever. It was then that I realized I was conflicted with feelings, sad and contempt, happy yet upset at what was happening, and that it would never happen again. Grateful for a memory like this yet upset that each moment constantly moves forward and never still for a moment. I thought deeper about the events that were unfolding in front of me and began to realize that we would probably all remember this time for many years. I also realized that this memory would not only come during times of joy but times of sorrow. Times when I needed to remind not only myself, but others who can no longer remember what they were like. I'll recall their young faces, what we did and some of the things that they helped me get over by just listening and talking at so many of those simple meals. It's up to me to remind them when they can no longer remember the times like these. This thought is one that I think about regularly.... One memory that I will think back on a year from now, and maybe still be upset....One that I will miss as a aging man reflecting back on my life...Finally a memory that I will love, forever.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
The last entry I wrote on this subject...the days that followed this one i was busy between the hospital and the bar. I know that's not a good thing to drink during these times but I needed it...anyway i don't know why i wrote this one as a story...
7/7/09 10:23
Loud knock on his bedroom door wake him up. followed by an even loader voice that fills the dark room. “hey you awake”. “I am now” he thought letting out a long groggy breath.
His father’s voice was low and read that he needed something. “can you do me a favor?”
Awake now, there was no coming back and he knew that his fathers favors didn’t come as request but rather demands, no matter the time or mental state you where in. “What do ya need” nick replied covering his face with his hands. Hoping the favor was merely an answer his father was seeking rather than some physical favor like cutting the yard. You moms gotta leave the hospital and she doesn’t want to leave your grandmother there alone with your grandfather. If the doctors come in she might not fully understand what he saying.”
Images of his grandfather lying in the hospital bed with tubes ran through his head. Followed by images of him picking him up when he was little to give him a hug.
“Ya give me a minute and I’ll be up.” It would be the worst afternoon in his life.
The shower really didn’t help the hangover neither did the poorly made sandwich. The long drive to the hospital usual. Not the weather however. 360 days of sun. Bright burning hot sun that’s melts your energy and keeps people inside their caves. Not today. Cloudy. severe overcast.
Room 3412 was at the end of a long hall. A hall filled with elderly patients. Patients with faces that read of long lives and deep emotions. They would leave the doors open just enough to catch glimpses of them. Some asleep. Some awake. Watching the door like dogs at the pound hoping someone came for them. A quick smile followed by a expression of sadness when they recognized he wasn’t coming for them.
The door has half open, and he could tell people where inside talking. He stops and turns back to the cart on the opposite side of the hallway, grabs a face mask and soaps his hands before entering. The beep and tubes are the first thing you notice. The old man sleeping with a ventilator is the second. His grandmother talking to a man is the third thing he sees. They look and greet each other. His grandmother is small lady with dark skin and dark hair. Greg, a family friend had been stopping by occasionally.
“Any news so far” Nick says. “no were still waiting on the doctor.” His grandmother says.” Nick finds a metal chair and sits behind the door of the crowded room. Greg continues about a conversation they were having about his girlfriend and the problems se gives him. Nick doesn’t listen though but stares at his grandfather who was breathing heavily though the machine. Memories pass him and thoughts of how things will be now. Images of the family getting together and how his grandparents where the foundation that built it. sadness fills his body, disabling his speech. All he can do is watch his grandfather breathe and listen to Greg’s story. his grandmother had an expression on her face that read that she was mildly interested. Greg didn’t notice. “I’m telling you Mrs. Zepeda my girlfriend is crazy… she gets so jealous”. Nick looks at Greg curiously thinking. “My grandfather is lying here dying and you’re talking about your trouble…my grandmother doesn’t care. Why are you talking about that?” He thinks more about it and wants to tell Greg to be quite. Anger begins to fill his mind when the door swings open and bangs startling nick. A dark skinned man enters wearing a yellow hospital gown followed by another man and women dressed the same listening intently. “I’m doctor___ and I understand that ya’ll have some questions?”…
-------Im know after rereading this thinking that what Greg was trying to do (poorly but trying) was maybe trying to provide some sort of comical relief or distraction to ease her mourning. sometimes the mind needs a break...i guess now that i think of it im glasd he understood that even if if i couldn't realize it. peace.
7/7/09 10:23
Loud knock on his bedroom door wake him up. followed by an even loader voice that fills the dark room. “hey you awake”. “I am now” he thought letting out a long groggy breath.
His father’s voice was low and read that he needed something. “can you do me a favor?”
Awake now, there was no coming back and he knew that his fathers favors didn’t come as request but rather demands, no matter the time or mental state you where in. “What do ya need” nick replied covering his face with his hands. Hoping the favor was merely an answer his father was seeking rather than some physical favor like cutting the yard. You moms gotta leave the hospital and she doesn’t want to leave your grandmother there alone with your grandfather. If the doctors come in she might not fully understand what he saying.”
Images of his grandfather lying in the hospital bed with tubes ran through his head. Followed by images of him picking him up when he was little to give him a hug.
“Ya give me a minute and I’ll be up.” It would be the worst afternoon in his life.
The shower really didn’t help the hangover neither did the poorly made sandwich. The long drive to the hospital usual. Not the weather however. 360 days of sun. Bright burning hot sun that’s melts your energy and keeps people inside their caves. Not today. Cloudy. severe overcast.
Room 3412 was at the end of a long hall. A hall filled with elderly patients. Patients with faces that read of long lives and deep emotions. They would leave the doors open just enough to catch glimpses of them. Some asleep. Some awake. Watching the door like dogs at the pound hoping someone came for them. A quick smile followed by a expression of sadness when they recognized he wasn’t coming for them.
The door has half open, and he could tell people where inside talking. He stops and turns back to the cart on the opposite side of the hallway, grabs a face mask and soaps his hands before entering. The beep and tubes are the first thing you notice. The old man sleeping with a ventilator is the second. His grandmother talking to a man is the third thing he sees. They look and greet each other. His grandmother is small lady with dark skin and dark hair. Greg, a family friend had been stopping by occasionally.
“Any news so far” Nick says. “no were still waiting on the doctor.” His grandmother says.” Nick finds a metal chair and sits behind the door of the crowded room. Greg continues about a conversation they were having about his girlfriend and the problems se gives him. Nick doesn’t listen though but stares at his grandfather who was breathing heavily though the machine. Memories pass him and thoughts of how things will be now. Images of the family getting together and how his grandparents where the foundation that built it. sadness fills his body, disabling his speech. All he can do is watch his grandfather breathe and listen to Greg’s story. his grandmother had an expression on her face that read that she was mildly interested. Greg didn’t notice. “I’m telling you Mrs. Zepeda my girlfriend is crazy… she gets so jealous”. Nick looks at Greg curiously thinking. “My grandfather is lying here dying and you’re talking about your trouble…my grandmother doesn’t care. Why are you talking about that?” He thinks more about it and wants to tell Greg to be quite. Anger begins to fill his mind when the door swings open and bangs startling nick. A dark skinned man enters wearing a yellow hospital gown followed by another man and women dressed the same listening intently. “I’m doctor___ and I understand that ya’ll have some questions?”…
-------Im know after rereading this thinking that what Greg was trying to do (poorly but trying) was maybe trying to provide some sort of comical relief or distraction to ease her mourning. sometimes the mind needs a break...i guess now that i think of it im glasd he understood that even if if i couldn't realize it. peace.
More of the worst days
This was a couple of days later (after "please")...I was actually smart enough to write the date down.
7/5/09- 9:21pm
You think things are supposed to get better or at least you hope. I don’t talk much about him but when I do I know no one wants to hear it. my genuine feeling are met with nods and eyes that don’t look at me. Usually short phrases like “it sucks” or “hope he gets better”. Over the counter recipes it seems….venting. I did talk about it with a friend of mine who had lost before. His brother was 15 and was playing football when he got hit in the head to hard. He died within minutes. I told him in a way he was lucky. The pain of watching someone you love deteriorate is like nothing I’ve seen or felt. He sleeps most the day and when he’s awake he not really aware of what’s going on. I sit and watch him sleep. Hold his hand. I think that helps…sometimes he moans and screams while sleeping. Like hes caught in a nightmare, and cant wake up. Never have I felt so helpless.
They put him on a ventilator. My dad said it was only a matter of days. Ill go see him tomorrow.
7/5/09- 9:21pm
You think things are supposed to get better or at least you hope. I don’t talk much about him but when I do I know no one wants to hear it. my genuine feeling are met with nods and eyes that don’t look at me. Usually short phrases like “it sucks” or “hope he gets better”. Over the counter recipes it seems….venting. I did talk about it with a friend of mine who had lost before. His brother was 15 and was playing football when he got hit in the head to hard. He died within minutes. I told him in a way he was lucky. The pain of watching someone you love deteriorate is like nothing I’ve seen or felt. He sleeps most the day and when he’s awake he not really aware of what’s going on. I sit and watch him sleep. Hold his hand. I think that helps…sometimes he moans and screams while sleeping. Like hes caught in a nightmare, and cant wake up. Never have I felt so helpless.
They put him on a ventilator. My dad said it was only a matter of days. Ill go see him tomorrow.
Please please please please…….
So this is my first blog and it is about one of the hardest thing i had to go through. Its pretty personal and reveals a lot about what i was going through so i hope making it public was a good idea...
Please please please please…….
These words spill out of my mouth and run through my mind with a sense of urgency like life depends on it. This time it might.
Maybe if I say it or ask enough times, it will come true. Someone could answer my calls and give me reassurance. Some sort of comfort or guarantee that things will be ok and I will have my answers.
For now I guess they can’t be answered just like something’s can’t be avoided. Like they sickening feeling you get when you stare a dying man in the eyes. Especially, when he’s your grandfather.
Let’s back track a bit:
About week ago I was doing much of what I normally do. Wake up hangover, get dressed horridly then to work were I generally put the least amount of effort as possible to look like I’m actually busy; followed by another night of self-indulgence. It was my life and I wasn’t looking for much more. I had what I needed maybe not what I wanted, but just enough of what I needed to know that I was alright.
Then the call came. My mother’s voice was unlike her usual tone. Slow and calm but slightly anxious. She had told me that my grandfather while at his house had suddenly fainted. After she went to go visit him in the hospital they let her know that an x –ray would reveal what the problem was.
She told me he wasn’t the same. He spoke different and could barely remember what happened. “He isn’t the same…he ask me the same question 5 times.”
That’s what I remember most of that day, just disbelief that the man who served in World War 2, worked construction for nearly thirty years, followed by building his own business ground up for another 20 years could be sick. The man was a machine he never stopped working, ever. I remember seeing him always breaking down and building up all sorts of motors, Hands greasy starring at the metal block meticulously, quietly analyzing everything before making his next move. I remember him repairing and painting everything you could imagine in that small house he built for his family. Sometimes I just remember him sweeping the driveway, smiling at me as I got home from elementary school. He would hug me and say something in Spanish that I never understood.
The first few times I visited him I couldn’t tell why everyone was so worried, I had seen him in the hospital for routine things, but he had always came through…always. But this time my uncles looked at him different. They would stare at him a long time then move to the window and stare into the ocean view window even longer.
What was it they knew that I didn’t?
The next time I went to visit him I experienced the questioning my mother had told me about. He asked me the same question 4 times.
“you work today, mijo?”.
“ No grandpa, I am off”.
” That s good”. Each time with a sincere reply; genuinely glad that I had the day off to go see him. It hit me then. This wasn’t the normal hospital stay.
A few test and couple of visits later led me to today. My grandmother was in the room with him. All was quiet, nothing more unusual than what I had previously seen or experienced. I asked about the final test they did this morning and she told me that they had found a cancerous brain tumor. We talked for a bit about treatment and what the doctors told them about an hour before I got there. No one else in the family had heard the news yet. We suspected, but wanted all test to be done before assuming anything. “They found cancer in my brain” my grandfather told me, pointing to his head. We stayed quiet for a while.
When he asked if I could help him move, I went over to grab his hands. He couldn’t pull himself up, so put my arms behind him and bring him close so I could adjust the pillows behind him.
I adjusted the pillows and was about to lean him back down, but he didn’t let go of me. I didn’t notice he started crying until I recognized the sound. He held onto me for about a minute. I could feel his tears on my shoulder. That moment seemed to last forever.
He spoke to me in Spanish then in English, now holding my hand. Eyes full of tears…he was scared. Scared he never see his family again, scared that he wasn’t strong enough for what was happening, scared that he knew there was no stopping the inevitable future. Eyes that pleaded with me to not let this happen to him. We hugged even longer this time and I told him not be scared and that everything would be ok. I told what he needed to hear.
I held his hand until he fell asleep, watching him quietly breathe. After a while, like my uncles, I went to the ocean view window and started crying.
Please please please please…….
These words spill out of my mouth and run through my mind with a sense of urgency like life depends on it. This time it might.
Maybe if I say it or ask enough times, it will come true. Someone could answer my calls and give me reassurance. Some sort of comfort or guarantee that things will be ok and I will have my answers.
For now I guess they can’t be answered just like something’s can’t be avoided. Like they sickening feeling you get when you stare a dying man in the eyes. Especially, when he’s your grandfather.
Let’s back track a bit:
About week ago I was doing much of what I normally do. Wake up hangover, get dressed horridly then to work were I generally put the least amount of effort as possible to look like I’m actually busy; followed by another night of self-indulgence. It was my life and I wasn’t looking for much more. I had what I needed maybe not what I wanted, but just enough of what I needed to know that I was alright.
Then the call came. My mother’s voice was unlike her usual tone. Slow and calm but slightly anxious. She had told me that my grandfather while at his house had suddenly fainted. After she went to go visit him in the hospital they let her know that an x –ray would reveal what the problem was.
She told me he wasn’t the same. He spoke different and could barely remember what happened. “He isn’t the same…he ask me the same question 5 times.”
That’s what I remember most of that day, just disbelief that the man who served in World War 2, worked construction for nearly thirty years, followed by building his own business ground up for another 20 years could be sick. The man was a machine he never stopped working, ever. I remember seeing him always breaking down and building up all sorts of motors, Hands greasy starring at the metal block meticulously, quietly analyzing everything before making his next move. I remember him repairing and painting everything you could imagine in that small house he built for his family. Sometimes I just remember him sweeping the driveway, smiling at me as I got home from elementary school. He would hug me and say something in Spanish that I never understood.
The first few times I visited him I couldn’t tell why everyone was so worried, I had seen him in the hospital for routine things, but he had always came through…always. But this time my uncles looked at him different. They would stare at him a long time then move to the window and stare into the ocean view window even longer.
What was it they knew that I didn’t?
The next time I went to visit him I experienced the questioning my mother had told me about. He asked me the same question 4 times.
“you work today, mijo?”.
“ No grandpa, I am off”.
” That s good”. Each time with a sincere reply; genuinely glad that I had the day off to go see him. It hit me then. This wasn’t the normal hospital stay.
A few test and couple of visits later led me to today. My grandmother was in the room with him. All was quiet, nothing more unusual than what I had previously seen or experienced. I asked about the final test they did this morning and she told me that they had found a cancerous brain tumor. We talked for a bit about treatment and what the doctors told them about an hour before I got there. No one else in the family had heard the news yet. We suspected, but wanted all test to be done before assuming anything. “They found cancer in my brain” my grandfather told me, pointing to his head. We stayed quiet for a while.
When he asked if I could help him move, I went over to grab his hands. He couldn’t pull himself up, so put my arms behind him and bring him close so I could adjust the pillows behind him.
I adjusted the pillows and was about to lean him back down, but he didn’t let go of me. I didn’t notice he started crying until I recognized the sound. He held onto me for about a minute. I could feel his tears on my shoulder. That moment seemed to last forever.
He spoke to me in Spanish then in English, now holding my hand. Eyes full of tears…he was scared. Scared he never see his family again, scared that he wasn’t strong enough for what was happening, scared that he knew there was no stopping the inevitable future. Eyes that pleaded with me to not let this happen to him. We hugged even longer this time and I told him not be scared and that everything would be ok. I told what he needed to hear.
I held his hand until he fell asleep, watching him quietly breathe. After a while, like my uncles, I went to the ocean view window and started crying.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)