Crescendo

Two deaths in the family in a matter of hours. I won't lie, I'm avoiding the family time.

I've written a handful of blog entries I think I'd rather "draft" for now.

But what I can't seem to hide is, What do you do in the the face of grief? If you don't believe in hell you can't believe in heaven, and if there isn't a god and there isn't an afterlife, is there no consolation from death?

It's hard to see someone lose their son, grandfathers, fathers, brothers. In a day.

Is it some sort of really strange coincidence? Or maybe there's some sort of story i'm missing out on here. Maybe there was a connection.

My uncle's girlfriend barely coherently through tears said, "This wasn't the deal. You were my stronger half, this wasn't the deal, we were a family of two." and my heart bled for her.

And I wonder, is this simply what death is and I was allowed to turn a blind eye till now? Is that how we all die? Is that how we'll all die? Is this just how it is?

The worst idea of grief, the one that scared me the most was life going on and on and never stopping for anyone. And it has. Everyones lives continue with sicknesses, and boyfriends, and school, and work, and a million other things. And I somehow want it to stop. Can we stop? Can we all just stop?

So many people's lives have stopped. And as a mockery the rest of us (because I'm included) just keep on going.

How do you help someone cope with mourning? How do you tell your best friend from childhood, you're only friend from childhood, that you held her fathers hand as he was nothing but skin and bones beneath a bed sheet, and asked him to hold on until she could come say goodbye? But he just couldn't. How do you hold someone back from the abyss?

I'll be honest, because lying is so inappropriate. I am not mourning. We barely knew each other, after all. Maybe he took us to the movies once, maybe he got us lunch sometimes, maybe he was seamlessly weaved into certain parts of my childhood. I won't pretend out of respect for him and those that loved him that I can grieve as much as they. But he was jenna's father. He was my lola's son. He was my mom's brother. And I cannot turn away from that.

I pick her up from the airport, from what I assume was two days of hell that I can't begin to imagine after 4 months of hell that I can't begin to imagine.