The Circle Of Life

Circles have all of these different meanings, but they'll always remind me of life. In this particular moment, especially, I realize how life is but a circle. I remember that one scene in that Chuck and Larry movie where the Vegas pastor, I think, talks about how life is like a circle. I kept imitating him for years, but he had a point...

From the moment we're born, the only sure thing in our lives is death. We're born, we live, and we die.

 

It sounds so bad, probably, but it isn't... I think what's horrible is the unknown. We fear dying, because it's so unknown to us. We see it as being robbed, but it's not that at all. Sometimes people die too soon... a lot of times, actually. Death isn't meant to be that way, though. I understand that with death someone is suddenly physically gone, and that can be difficult, too. I don't know how to feel or what to believe in regards to death, though. I do know that it's not bad--at least that's what I'm telling myself. Life is like a circle, and we're all part of that circle. It's okay. It sucks, but it's okay... or it will be okay.

I mean even plants go through this circle of life. You see these beautiful roses bloom and live out their beauty before they whither away... but not before they leave pieces of themselves behind to give life to the coming roses. I want to believe that people are the same. Whether they live out their life to their late late years or leave us too early, I want to believe they too leave behind these little seeds that will nurture us and help us grow.

It just sucks. I won't pretend that I'm anywhere near understanding, but I'm trying.
Life is beautiful, right? It has its ups and downs, but it's beautiful. Life and death are one in the same, so I should accept death the same way?

I think it isn't meant to be easy, and it may make me selfish, but it's not easy knowing that you won't ever see someone again. You think about all the moments you could have spent with them, that you didn't.

Today my grandad passed away. I have never seen my mum this way. She's a fairly strong woman, and she's quite religious. She has this strong Italian personality--fiery as can be--and yet she's also gentle. I've seen her go through many different moods, considering I was a hurricane as a child. i was always climbing walls... and falling off of said walls. I was running through mud and getting her favorite curtains filthy. I was a handful... Anyways, I've never seen her like today.

It breaks my heart.

I was close to my grandad when I was younger. I haven't seen him in years, though. In early June, he had a stroke and there was just so much going on before that and after. I've spent my time looking at my mum, more than anything. I feel frozen inside, but I also feel gutted seeing my mum.

I think about how she flew out to see him, back in June. I was the only one who didn't want to go. She understood why. It makes me question how good I am at handling death, because I run from it. I couldn't bare the though of seeing him how he was. I had known him in his prime. He was tall and lean but his shoulders were quite broad. He smiled with his eyes, blue like the ocean. His hair was sandy blonde and he had a laugh that was absolutely contagious. He was one of the few people, who from a young age, planted in me to follow my dreams. He's from a different time, with a different mindset, but he seemed to understand that I was a firecracker. I was his little lion, and he would listen to me perform these songs that I'd come up with on the spot. At 8, he was someone who I couldn't picture my life without. He was just a constant.

I saw him less and less as I grew up, but he had already left his mark...


I had heard about how he was after the stroke and coma--a mere shell of himself--and I knew that I was never going to see him again, because I wanted to remember him as I knew him. I understand how selfish that was, but I couldn't get myself to see him connected to tubes. I didn't understand why they didn't let him die, in that moment. I knew he was in pain, and I was mad. I was mad that after the doctors had said he would never be okay, they prolonged it all. Then again i felt selfish, because I also wanted him to survive. I wanted a miracle to happen. I wanted him to wake up as if it had all been a dream, and he would give me one of those "why do you buy jeans with holes? I can just cut them up for you for free" talks. He'd tell me how I was finally blonde again, and he'd be happy.

I'm so confused.

I don't feel like the little lioness he treated me as. I don't feel strong at all. I find it hard to breathe. I find it hard to think. I didn't realize how affected I was until I started writing this. 

But, I mean he lived his life, and he left his mark on people. He was so kind... but I can't help be selfish. He died in peace, after so much pain. I'm glad he went that way, but I can't help wish he hadn't left. I understand he was in pain and had already lived out his life, but he's gone.

I can't imagine how my mum is feeling. I can't imagine how my gran is. I lost my grandad, my mum lost her dad, but gran lost her love. They were so amazing together. They were the spitting image of an epic romance novel...

My grans... I wonder how she's supposed deal with this. That makes this whole thing harder. How do you have the person you've grown with for decades disappear and be okay with it? You're not okay with it, but how do you keep going? How do you look around your home at all of the memories and thing you've created together without the lump in your throat? How do you look back at all the good without the present drowning you?

I guess this is supposed to help me. It's supposed to make me stronger, with time, right? I don't know if that's what I want. I don't care for that, right now. I want to understand. I want everyone around me to be okay, and I don't want to feel this way inside. I want him to be okay.

I don't know what I believe in. I was raised Catholic, but loss has a way of making you doubt things. From a young age, people have died. I've prayed and lost them all the same, so I don't know what I believe in. I like learning about others' religions. I like asking questions. I like to learn. Right now, though, I'm not afraid to admit that I'm a mess. I'll be okay, but I can't help miss him. I'm just glad he lived out his life the way he did. He had a glorious happy life, and I'm happy about that. Life is a circle, right? The good, the bad, none of it makes a difference... it keeps going...

Xx