The truest things you can ever say of any person is that they lived, and that they died. Everyone will experience both those things. The rest is a menagerie of circumstance and personal choice that leads them to paths none of us will walk; though our path may be similar, no one can ever truly know what it is to be another person, nor all the influences that person had on the lives of others. We can get inklings from time to time, yes, but to know fully is impossible.
I suppose I should explain the maudlin tone of this by saying that an uncle of mine recently passed away. He had lung cancer, so it was not completely unexpected, but the swiftness of his passing is.. bothering me. I've always dealt with death particularly well, but the others I've had to deal with.. well, oddly enough, all cancer. No heart attacks, no car accidents, just the slow, debilitating trudge to the unknown that cancer is.
The last time I saw him was about a month and a half ago, visiting a good friend back home for his bachelor party. When I saw him, it was actually the first time I'd been to him and my aunt's house. My mom and another aunt were there, and they were all just sitting around watching a Bears game, in which they were getting fucking stomped. Bears memorabilia littered their living room - pictures of various players from various times, dinnerware of various sorts, pennants, and even an original vinyl of the Super Bowl Shuffle from the 80's. They certainly put the "fan" in "fanatic."
But while I was there, he seemed so normal. Just the casual, laid-back guy he always was, just enjoying the game. Or, rather, would have been, had the Bears not been getting reamed a new asshole. I suppose I should say - I was not related to him by blood. I am related to my aunt by blood. But.. she had a history of horrible relationships, as do most of the female members of my extended family, including for... well, actually all of my aunts, and my mom, (total 5)... physical and mental abuse. That uncle was one of the few good things that happened to her. Always kind, always courteous.. never abusive, not to her or anyone. And then one early morning, he wakes up coughing blood and complaining he can't breathe, and he's gone. And my aunt loses a great person, then gets to deal with the fallout of it, not just funeral proceedings, but his daughter trying to rifle through his stuff and take what she wants while his corpse is still warm.
I am not a religious person. I consider myself an atheist, though I was raised Catholic. Funny how I know so many people like that. But things like this make me hope I'm wrong, and that whatever's out there is a benevolent sort. When the other people's deaths I've had to deal with came around, sometimes you could just smell death in the room - and death was a mercy, not a curse. But with this, it's an unwelcome surprise. And especially this happening around the holidays, it's the worst.
I think, perhaps, this is why I dabble in fantasy so much. The troubles of the world are a lot less when you can immerse yourself into something else less horrible, be able to imagine a better future, something else to look forward to.. people who you know are imaginary, dealing with problems you have and some you don't, but still able to do something about it. Powerless is the worst way to feel. I'm pretty sure that's how my aunt has felt since that happened. No one should feel that way.
I suppose I should explain the maudlin tone of this by saying that an uncle of mine recently passed away. He had lung cancer, so it was not completely unexpected, but the swiftness of his passing is.. bothering me. I've always dealt with death particularly well, but the others I've had to deal with.. well, oddly enough, all cancer. No heart attacks, no car accidents, just the slow, debilitating trudge to the unknown that cancer is.
The last time I saw him was about a month and a half ago, visiting a good friend back home for his bachelor party. When I saw him, it was actually the first time I'd been to him and my aunt's house. My mom and another aunt were there, and they were all just sitting around watching a Bears game, in which they were getting fucking stomped. Bears memorabilia littered their living room - pictures of various players from various times, dinnerware of various sorts, pennants, and even an original vinyl of the Super Bowl Shuffle from the 80's. They certainly put the "fan" in "fanatic."
But while I was there, he seemed so normal. Just the casual, laid-back guy he always was, just enjoying the game. Or, rather, would have been, had the Bears not been getting reamed a new asshole. I suppose I should say - I was not related to him by blood. I am related to my aunt by blood. But.. she had a history of horrible relationships, as do most of the female members of my extended family, including for... well, actually all of my aunts, and my mom, (total 5)... physical and mental abuse. That uncle was one of the few good things that happened to her. Always kind, always courteous.. never abusive, not to her or anyone. And then one early morning, he wakes up coughing blood and complaining he can't breathe, and he's gone. And my aunt loses a great person, then gets to deal with the fallout of it, not just funeral proceedings, but his daughter trying to rifle through his stuff and take what she wants while his corpse is still warm.
I am not a religious person. I consider myself an atheist, though I was raised Catholic. Funny how I know so many people like that. But things like this make me hope I'm wrong, and that whatever's out there is a benevolent sort. When the other people's deaths I've had to deal with came around, sometimes you could just smell death in the room - and death was a mercy, not a curse. But with this, it's an unwelcome surprise. And especially this happening around the holidays, it's the worst.
I think, perhaps, this is why I dabble in fantasy so much. The troubles of the world are a lot less when you can immerse yourself into something else less horrible, be able to imagine a better future, something else to look forward to.. people who you know are imaginary, dealing with problems you have and some you don't, but still able to do something about it. Powerless is the worst way to feel. I'm pretty sure that's how my aunt has felt since that happened. No one should feel that way.