Wednesday, April 16, 2008

I had three dreams about death, and now she's gone ...

My aunt died from her year-long battle with cancer. It is still all very fresh. My dad waited a full day to tell me because he didn't want me to perform poorly on my exam. I am devastated and distraught. It hurts to breathe. My now-orphaned cousin sent me a video taken from her birthday a short while ago, and I can't stop crying.

My grandma, a normally stoic pillar of strength, has been breaking down in a constant stream of tears. It pains me to see her like this. A parent should never have to bury her child.

We are all suffering, each in our own way. I cannot seem to pull myself together from the shock. My aunt went in for a check-up last week, the doctors found something in her brain, she went home, and soon deteriorated at an unprecedented rate.

She flatlined some time between my dad going to the Chinese embassy and leaving with a traveler's visa. I can't imagine what he must be feeling right now. He devoted a substantial portion of our phone call tonight comforting me, telling me there is nothing we can change now, but I know he is desperate to be with the rest of his family in Beijing. "She liked you the best," my dad told me. "She was always asking how you were doing." We were alike in myriad ways, mostly laughable traits only we could appreciate. Tactless spendthrifts, curious and naive, I have an attachment to her only family can comprehend.

I love and miss her so much.

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