6/7/10

Life is all about being prepared. Your parents spend your first 18 years preparing you for the real world. You go to college, to prepare yourself for whatever career path you are interested in( or prepare yourself for a life of alcoholism). As human beings, we don't have a successful track record for acting impulsivly. We like to have that peace of mind that we have some idea what we are doing.

Today, my brothers and I drove 2 hours to Tacoma to visit and say goodbye to our grandma at a Hospice House. I wasn't prepared for this afternoon. We knew she had been sick for a long time, and long expected this time to come. But for as expected as this could've been, I sure wasn't prepared for this.

It felt like studying for a test for weeks, feeling comfident that you're atleast going to pass, then when you open it up it's in spanish. Thats how I felt today.

It reminded me of playing organized basketball, practicing for weeks on the same plays, over and over again. Then game 1 comes, you and your teammates are out warming up, buzzin with nervous energy ready to demonstrate your abillities. Then you notice the other team, all of them over 6 foot. All of them draining full form three pointers. All of them needing to shave. Then that nervous energy turns into utter fear.

You were not prepared for these guys. You were expecting the Toonsquad, and you got the Monstars. What happens next is 40 minutes of systematic ass beatings. You and your buddies promptly forget your weeks of strategy and practices, and you are dismantled.

There are certain things you can't prepare for. Walking into that room, and seeing my grandma in that condition-thats one of them. I broke down in that room (and to be fair, in the car on the way there. My dad thought she was almost gone before we got there, so they called so we could say 'bye'. Needless to say, I was unable to keep my composure). Today, I cried as hard as I can remember crying. Ever.

Despite my belief that my Grandma, who was enduring intense pain, was heading to a wonderful place where she will spend eternity pain free, I couldn't shake the hurt.

I can't begin to explain everything (or anything) I thought about in that room. I watched as my dad and uncle tried to hold it together in front of their families. I wondered about the levels strength it took to do that. I looked at my grandma, and prayed that she considered her life mission completed.

I started to think about my own mortallity, which is always a hot spot for my anxiety. Nobody knows how much time we have on this planet. I could live till I'm 100, or I could go while I'm writing this. No one knows. The only thing we can do is make sure that when it's time, we're not riddled with regret.

Standing in that room, everything felt so heavy. My chest started to hurt. Thats not a metaphor. My chest actually hurt. I was watching someone who was directly responsible for my existance, who I loved very much, living through what was going to be their last moments.

I wasn't ready for this.

When it comes to the death of a loved one, you can throw out the idea of being prepared.