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It’s never enough time August 15, 2007

Posted by Sparkel in I really don't know life at all, realizations.

There are times when I forget that my grandmother is dead. I think about something she said, or a funny story, and then, as I always have, think “I hope I get to see her this weekend” (or something to that effect), and then I remember and it hits like a sledgehammer. I’ve tried to keep myself preoccupied with shows and reading and friends and work, but there’s no escaping it. Which is both good and bad. I read a book once about this kid whose best friend dies when they’re 12. He says that he wants to let himself feel all the grief and anger and sadness so that it doesn’t hurt to think about his friend for too long. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how he words it, because it so. perfectly. captures how you feel when you lose someone you love: “there’s a lump in my throat and a story at the tip of my tongue whenever I think of [her].”

I really, really miss my grandmother. And I hate that I’ll never see her again. I hate that there are only memories and the past. Sometimes I hate it so much it just…aches.

I haven’t written here yet about my sisters boyfriend. He was in a car accident when he was sixteen and he died four days later. I thought about death and why a lot differently before that happened. I’ve come to realize that there’s no answer for any of it. Why we’re here, why we leave, why some people (sometimes the best people) leave too soon. Any belief I had in a higher power went out the window when he died. Any hope that any of it is more than cruel left too. My grandmothers death is different. Her life ending doesn’t seem as tragic because she lived such a long, good life. When I think of her passing, I feel sad and nostaligic. When I think of Paul’s death, I feel angry at the world.

From what I’ve experienced of death, which is luckily not much compared to many, many others in the world, I realize only that we need to appreciate what we have while we have it, and never go to bed angry, never take anyone for granted, and realize that today might be it. Not only for you, but for anyone you love and like. My sister never got to say goodbye, and it haunts her to this day. I said goodbye to my grandmother, but I still wish I said more. My cousin’s son, who is 8, summed it up: “It’s not fair! I’ve only had my whole life with her, and that’s only eight years. That’s not enough time.” To which my cousin replied “I’ve only had 33 years with her, and that’s not enough time.” Then he said “It’s never enough time.”

There’s never enough time to live, and there’s never enough time to love. So why do we waste so much of it on hate, negativity, drama and nothing?



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