Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Back To Life, Back To Reality

I sent you all some In Real Life Updates [recap here: In Real Life Update and Another In Real Life Update ] to let you know why Her Deep Thoughts wasn't running the same.

That's because I wasn't running the same. Life just sort of smacked me in the face. And then Death came knocking on the door.

Its been nine days since Papito passed away. The last time I saw him, he was in the hospital bed before he was discharged. He was back to his normal self - as sharp as a whip. I told him about all the family that came to see him and how they had to throw us out every night. He couldn't remember. I told him that he'd been there seven days and everyone of us came everyday. He was surprised at the time that had passed.

I told him that I loved him and that he was not only my grandpa, but my dad. He smiled. I kissed him on the cheek, and said, "Bendicion, Papito, te quiero mucho. Nos vemos despues," and I touched his hair.  He said "Dios te Bendiga, Mi'ja." That was the last time I saw him alive. 

Unbelievably, when he was being discharged, I actually thought everything would be ok. We made plans for Thanksgiving with grandpa around. I planned on actually going on the vacation I'd planned months ago. Like, "phew, glad he's gonna be ok." What the hell was wrong with me? I didn't see him that weekend. On Monday, after leaving Court,  I got the hysterical call, "Papito's not breathing! He's not breathing!" I ran to the train. I ran thinking I could help. I  just ran.

But Papito was not breathing. Anymore. He never did again.

I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't be alone. I would wake up to this feral growling which I realzied was rising from the back of my throat. Then I would wail. I'd never heard that sound before - I'd never felt that kind of raw pain.

Then I would go numb (aka "be ok"). But the grief would come like waves, surprisingly, in the middle of the "calm" ocean of my feelings, and crash hard against me. Shaking me.

I tended to my mother. Her sisters. Her brother. This was their father afterall. My Grandmother. This was her husband afterall.  I took charge of all of the arrangements. The Wake. The Mass. The Funeral. The Burial. The Tombstone. But my brain was only 1/2 on during this time. Walking around like a zombie. Only "awake" when I needed to comfort someone else. And keeping busy was really all I could do to keep myself from falling apart completely.

I could literally feel Papito around me. In the air. Against my cheek. His laughter. His jokes. When I closed my eyes I could see his kind blue eyes and white hair. But he wasn't here anymore.

My immediate family was present at the cemetary which means My mom, My Grandma, My Aunts, My Uncle, My thirty five cousins, their maridos, their kids, my sister and I along with our respective boyfriends buried Papito on Saturday. He isn't here anymore.

The Novena started on Sunday. This meditative praying of the rosary helps. It helps a lot.
I went back to work yesterday. And I only look forward to praying the rosary each night with my family and stumbling home into my bed.

But time keeps ticking. We gotta keep moving. Even if we do so kicking and screaming.

It's not easy going back to Life when the smell of the pain left behind, like burnt rubber from screeching tires, stings your nostrils as death takes someone you love away.

Though the rift in my heart is still tangible, through eyes clouded with salty tears I am writing that I am thankful I had my "dad" for so long and that he lived a long 91 years on this earth.

I adore you Papito. Ahora y siempre. Que Dios te Bendiga.


I'm sorry if there are grammatical errors in this post. I just cant read this to edit it. It's just too much.