Seven years. Seven years until I understood the contents of one of the two worst days of my life.
Dad wasn’t there to pick us up at 5 that day, neither was Lorenzo, my brother. It was fine though, I could see home and run there in 20 seconds flat! Work was running late, Renzo was at a friend’s.
Distraught, tried, worried. Every word falling from my father’s mouth was plagued with guilt, anger, and prayers for good luck, tears falling again like so close before. He hadn’t been running late from work at all, he hadn’t been at work all day, rather the hospital, praying for his firstborn, his oldest son, one of his pride and joys. Lorenzo seemed so strong but he was broken down too, he still was a kid just like the rest of us; skipping school, again, to take care of Luke while he was sick might have been the best thing he could do that day. If he wasn’t there Luke would have died on the spot from the heart attack; if he wasn’t there he wouldn’t have to witness the beginning of the end.
When I finally was allowed to visit, NiChole refused to come. She was 12 and couldn’t emotionally handle it. I was 8 and simply wanted to ‘see Lukey’. His head was shaved from terrible knots and head lice, and his body was hooked up to more machines than I care to even try to think about. She showed me a picture of him before I went in so I could be prepared. It didn’t help because I didn’t care, I was fine.
Cold, pale, limp, beauty mark, rosary, hospital ID band, IV. His hand felt so strange a --hand I held a million and one times-- felt like a stranger’s. I remember holding on for a few seconds… I wish it was so much longer. He looked like he was asleep but, no. A coma is a rest that you can’t wake from. I can’t remember how my Dad, Lorenzo, or the nurse looked and acted that day. There are so many blurs; the room he was in is in a background of blue and a pull-around blind for patients. I can remember a few of the machines and the look of him on his bed, hooked up to keep him alive.
I witnessed him as he was dying on a bed, I was at his funeral, I was there while people were crying deeply, I met teachers from this school giving condolences, I witnessed my family breaking down into deep depressions. It took me a few years to finally cry about it. I missed them every day but that doesn’t mean I understood.
It took me 7 years to finally capture that I would never have them again. “Mom I’m so sorry, Luke please forgive me!” I had cried out --practically yelling to thin air-- hoping they could forgive me for not feeling this way sooner, not caring who was asleep during this late night. At least they could wake up.
It took almost 8 years since the death of two of the most important figures in my life that I realized everyone is going to die, that I wasn’t immune to fate and neither was anyone else. At 15 years old I realized I am going to die, I haven’t accepted it and I biologically cannot yet. It’s a terrifying thought, that took a long night of crying and wondering who was going to be ripped from my arms next to even made me open the pandora's box of wonder. Possibly this is all about growing up, maybe it’s a traumatized brain finally accepting traumatized thoughts. It’s a probability that seeing the rosary that draped his wrist may hurt in a “thankful way for my life” type of way.
I am not responsible for the deaths, but I can always work and talk with the ones I love to make sure they aren’t responsible for their own or worse, a terrible accident.
Knowing one day that I’ll be no more than a speck of stardust in the timeline of the universe, that one day I shall meet my mortality. Since then I’ve held my time more preciously, making an attempt to appreciate every second I have left. I’ve been working my hardest in school, making healthy life choices, holding the ones I love dearly close, and telling them how much they truly mean to me. The day you are born, is the beginning of the end. Death is unavoidable but having a good ride is a choice. I strapped in.