[Date Prev][Date Next][Thread Prev][Thread Next][Date Index][Thread Index]

Re: you knew i'd come back someday

On Fri, 28 Jul 2000, Amy Joy Eversole wrote:

> but on to what's being talked about...i know i'm a couple of days
> behind, but i wanted to comment on a few of rhys and kelvin's
> thoughts.  (hi, rhys!  i'm so glad that your family is safe!!)

hi amy.... (: nice to see you again.

amy said

> i've found that some losses are like having a missing arm that you
> didn't realize you even had, or how much impact it had on you, until
> it was gone. last year a friend of mine died suddenly and tragically.  
> in truth, he was more of an acquaintance than a close friend.  i
> hadn't talked to him in over

for me it was my grama. though, kind of weird. i've been thinking about it
for awhile and have come up with some thought about it all. i met her as a
person for the first time in my life in feb.  that was because she was
sick.  i say 'as a person' because before that i'd seen her once or twice
as a very small child.  from that and what i knew of her through my mom -
she had all the power and presence of a miniature god.  powerful enough to
make my mom cry.

the only reason i went up there was to meet her as an adult, and because
i'd heard my aunts, uncles and cousings would be there.  all of whom i'd
never seen - some of whom i'd never known exsisted.

i was pretty well... yes. angry. mad. she'd managed to keep her family
fragmented in ways that should never happen, but i went.

and... i walked in - the first person i saw was an uncle. he knew exactly
who i was - even though i'd never met him... 'you must be nina's girl.'
something i was to hear a lot of. 

there were all these little cousings running everywhere... who looked like
my brothers and sisters had when they were small. suddenly i was
surrounded by people i looked like. resmebled in mannerisms. looks.
amazing.  then i saw her - my grama. she was...old. tired. angry, but
worn-out. and she smiled at me. approved. i saw the way she treated my
cousins - playing with them tiredly, but enjoying them.

after that meeting, i spent quite a bit of time going back and forth
between school and there. she was very very sick.

as she got worse, i started spending nights with her. sitting there.
watching. counting. thinking. thinking.  i didn't get anywhere with the
thinking until lately.

it got to me the sorrow. the hurt in my mom's eyes. - and i didn't like it
- it's not like i knew her really.

as she got sicker - she began to resemble me even more. i began to
understand my mom's claim about strong blood. i saw her
great-grandmother's picture. looked like me.

she died. i went to the funeral. i didn't cry, but i keep thinking i'll
drive back up there and sit with ehr for a while.  the time in the dark
takes on a surreal quality in my head - something that did and did not
happen. i didn't know how to let any of my friends care.

and then this sunday, sitting in church all the sudden something started
breaking. and i cried. because it just did. and all the friends telling me
i should just cry didn't have any effect until it was time. the best part
about friends - they hold you when you cry. that is good.

> i'm homesick, too, rhys.
> 
> good dog bad dog is a great album for homesickness.

yea. the Happy to Be So and Go Down Easy...

> glad to be back,

ever so glad you are too.

rhys
-- 
Not all who wander are lost. JRR Tolkein 




---------------
Unsubscribe by going to http://www.actwin.com/MediaNation/OtR/
References: