Clashing Paradisos
Lastnight my papa died.
I got a latenight phone call, one of the many I've recieved in my life of similar message, to tell me that he had passed away after recieving morphine, and died peacefully in his sleep.
I didn't start to cry until my mind started to wander. I began to dream before sleeping of his heart in my hand and his life beginning to slow down as I held his weakening heart. Eeventually it lost all momentum, right before my eyes. As the beats slowed, so did his chest, and the ringing alarm of the monitor began sounding. Nurses rushed passed him, and towards me, holding his heart, and did all they could to quicken its rhythms. As I held his heart I lost all notion of its position in my hands and just looked at the lifeless organ in awe. A man who had frequented my life since it's beginning now didn't have a heart like mine. It was lifeless and so was he, never to be like i am, or to frequent my life again.
I remembered how he told me he loved me a week or so ago. Incoherent and barely able to breath he pretended to choke as I poured water into his mouth. I panicked and looked out the hospital door for a passing nurse. I turned back to him only to find him not coughing and smiling at me. I responded by poking his shoulder and palming my heart in shock. Even in incohenrency he knew just what i needed. In a moment of incomprehensible and speedy decay I needed to stop crying and start to rejoice. Begin to remember.
I realize that few men have come along in my life that have impressed me so. There is a possibility that few more will ever cross my path. I suppose that my faith in finding decency in others will remain optimistic as my faith in things to pass and in new tomorrows has been unfaltering.
I wonder how my optimism never ceases. I wonder if this is a climactic trauma that will end in early aging. I need to learn to live for the day and attempt to forgive and forget the past. I need to find a new job and I need to rejoice in current situations. I need to drop obsession for compulsion to run as fast as I can towards something I want and deserve.
I will attempt to fill the spaces inbetween with art and museums and exciting urban amenities.
I will write my book one day and I will write it all as I have seen it.
Time for work.
I got a latenight phone call, one of the many I've recieved in my life of similar message, to tell me that he had passed away after recieving morphine, and died peacefully in his sleep.
I didn't start to cry until my mind started to wander. I began to dream before sleeping of his heart in my hand and his life beginning to slow down as I held his weakening heart. Eeventually it lost all momentum, right before my eyes. As the beats slowed, so did his chest, and the ringing alarm of the monitor began sounding. Nurses rushed passed him, and towards me, holding his heart, and did all they could to quicken its rhythms. As I held his heart I lost all notion of its position in my hands and just looked at the lifeless organ in awe. A man who had frequented my life since it's beginning now didn't have a heart like mine. It was lifeless and so was he, never to be like i am, or to frequent my life again.
I remembered how he told me he loved me a week or so ago. Incoherent and barely able to breath he pretended to choke as I poured water into his mouth. I panicked and looked out the hospital door for a passing nurse. I turned back to him only to find him not coughing and smiling at me. I responded by poking his shoulder and palming my heart in shock. Even in incohenrency he knew just what i needed. In a moment of incomprehensible and speedy decay I needed to stop crying and start to rejoice. Begin to remember.
I realize that few men have come along in my life that have impressed me so. There is a possibility that few more will ever cross my path. I suppose that my faith in finding decency in others will remain optimistic as my faith in things to pass and in new tomorrows has been unfaltering.
I wonder how my optimism never ceases. I wonder if this is a climactic trauma that will end in early aging. I need to learn to live for the day and attempt to forgive and forget the past. I need to find a new job and I need to rejoice in current situations. I need to drop obsession for compulsion to run as fast as I can towards something I want and deserve.
I will attempt to fill the spaces inbetween with art and museums and exciting urban amenities.
I will write my book one day and I will write it all as I have seen it.
Time for work.
