She thought the abortion, euthanasia, pro-life, pro choice discussion was all too stupid. In the great scheme of things, death and life are all part of the same thing. All complex events altering long chains of carbon molecules along a timeline.
Longing for a life that would be was meaningless, because in cosmic time, each individual existence contributes a neglectable amount of energy into the whole universe. In the way she saw it, no matter the lifespan, the achievements, the impact in other lives, when compared to the 14 billions or so of the universe, they were all and the same practically zero. species can go extinct in the blink of an eye and something else takes its place while the universe and everything doesn't take notice.
The universe goes on expanding itself, stars exploding with all nuclear reactions, black holes swallowing everything, light might get distorted, black matter continues to fill the space, dark energy, and so many more mysteries won't cease to exist, whether anyone is conscious of it or not.
Even what we call matter really doesn't matter when you consider the size of the universe that keeps expanding. a bunch of nothing that keeps expanding. It's like the absence of her children. Each day expanding and taking up space inside of her.
She is becoming this immense void of life, feelings, reason that somehow is still mutating, the void expanding. She is getting thinner, transparent. she looks at herself in the mirror and she almost can see through herself.
That's what we all are. Stardust specs, infinitely small representations of the whole universe devoid of individual meaning.
Friday, June 15, 2018
Monday, March 5, 2018
CPR
She called her daughter and the silence was deeper than usual.
She started banging on the door and the silence was deafening
She asked for her husband to help opening the locked door.
As they scramble to look for tools to break the lock, her heart was pounding in pain.
She heard her husband screaming:"oh, my God!"
She rushed into the room and started screaming, asked him to remove the belt from around her neck. As they started CPR and he called emergency, she heard a breath of life leaving her daughter's body.
30 chest compressions, unblock the airways, ventilation through her mouth. Every second counting.
The emergency crew arrived and started pouring on the front door. As her husband continued the chest compressions she went to open the door, and from that moment on she was not allowed back into her daughter's room.
The seconds now became minutes and minutes converted into long hours of pain, screams, tears and wailing.
As the hours became days and the days are becoming months, they miss her even more and the void gets bigger and bigger.
She started banging on the door and the silence was deafening
She asked for her husband to help opening the locked door.
As they scramble to look for tools to break the lock, her heart was pounding in pain.
She heard her husband screaming:"oh, my God!"
She rushed into the room and started screaming, asked him to remove the belt from around her neck. As they started CPR and he called emergency, she heard a breath of life leaving her daughter's body.
30 chest compressions, unblock the airways, ventilation through her mouth. Every second counting.
The emergency crew arrived and started pouring on the front door. As her husband continued the chest compressions she went to open the door, and from that moment on she was not allowed back into her daughter's room.
The seconds now became minutes and minutes converted into long hours of pain, screams, tears and wailing.
As the hours became days and the days are becoming months, they miss her even more and the void gets bigger and bigger.
Monday, January 29, 2018
Remains
I'm knitting a blanket for my daughter
it will be 9" x 7" x 4.5"
fitting snugly around her.
No, she is not a tiny little girl
out of a fairy tale
although her birth made my life so magical
and brought dreams back into my soul.
It's tiny 3-dimensional blanket
to cover the tiny golden box
that today holds her combusted remains.
Cremation
Maybe among them there might be residues
of previous cremations,
the pulverized cardboard,
the wrapping material around her body.
Are the bodies wrapped so the handlers
don't have to see their faces?
Combustion
It's all a transformation of matter with heat.
Some of her transformed cells
remained in the burning chamber
and will be mixed with other remains.
Some particles floated in the air
and mixed with the dust
that will be swiped away
when the janitor comes buy
during the normal cleaning routine
Some climbed through
the crematorium chimney,
as gases that were devoid of smell
and then released into the atmosphere
Most of it will remain
in this tiny golden box
that I'll wrap in this tiny blanket
knitted in her favorite color.
Was it the first favorite color?
Or the third...
I can't remember the order
of her favorites anymore.
She stopped telling me that
long before her death.
I think of the all these particles
if they are still parts of her, if they hold
anything of what made her
so unique and so loved.
Are they going to spread her beauty
and greatness everywhere they land?
Can souls be rubbed off into others?
What will be wrapped in this tiny blanket
is just a heavy transformed
incomplete portion
of what my daughter once was
mixed with other things
that weren't hers.
My beautiful, precious daughter.
She now cannot refuse my hugs.
I can cradle this little box
for as long as I want.
She stays still all the time
compliant to whatever rules
we impose upon her.
No more locked doors.
No more defiance.
Never late for school again.
never dragging us down.
No more drama.
No more stress.
No more pain.
No more tears in her eyes
No more broken hearts for her.
nothing,
no more!
never again,,,
it will be 9" x 7" x 4.5"
fitting snugly around her.
No, she is not a tiny little girl
out of a fairy tale
although her birth made my life so magical
and brought dreams back into my soul.
It's tiny 3-dimensional blanket
to cover the tiny golden box
that today holds her combusted remains.
Cremation
Maybe among them there might be residues
of previous cremations,
the pulverized cardboard,
the wrapping material around her body.
Are the bodies wrapped so the handlers
don't have to see their faces?
Combustion
It's all a transformation of matter with heat.
Some of her transformed cells
remained in the burning chamber
and will be mixed with other remains.
Some particles floated in the air
and mixed with the dust
that will be swiped away
when the janitor comes buy
during the normal cleaning routine
Some climbed through
the crematorium chimney,
as gases that were devoid of smell
and then released into the atmosphere
Most of it will remain
in this tiny golden box
that I'll wrap in this tiny blanket
knitted in her favorite color.
Was it the first favorite color?
Or the third...
I can't remember the order
of her favorites anymore.
She stopped telling me that
long before her death.
I think of the all these particles
if they are still parts of her, if they hold
anything of what made her
so unique and so loved.
Are they going to spread her beauty
and greatness everywhere they land?
Can souls be rubbed off into others?
What will be wrapped in this tiny blanket
is just a heavy transformed
incomplete portion
of what my daughter once was
mixed with other things
that weren't hers.
My beautiful, precious daughter.
She now cannot refuse my hugs.
I can cradle this little box
for as long as I want.
She stays still all the time
compliant to whatever rules
we impose upon her.
No more locked doors.
No more defiance.
Never late for school again.
never dragging us down.
No more drama.
No more stress.
No more pain.
No more tears in her eyes
No more broken hearts for her.
nothing,
no more!
never again,,,
Sunday, January 21, 2018
Crime scene investigation
She had lost her son twice. And twice she had been saved by her daughter.
First when he left, at 15, with his heart bitter with resentment that he never explained.
She cried everyday, all day long. Her husband, out of pity on her misery, suggested them to have a child.
The daughter born 9 months later saved her. It was a new beginning, her daughter was more than perfect. She was a dream fulfilled.
The second time she lost her son was when he died, at 25 suffocated in his desperation and hopelessness.
Her soul cried deep inside with an infinite sorrow. Again her daughter saved her, because if wasn't for her, she wouldn't continue alive.
Now, at 15, her daughter died. She didn't have enough tears to cry anymore. A furious rage started eating her entrails, poisoning her blood, crunching her heart: "I miss you so much that my heart aches to pump and my blood crawls slowly through my veins".
During the memorial mass, while the priest was explaining about Lazarus and how we are all going to assume a celestial body at the end of times, she could only stare at the box with her daughter's ashes. She remembered how heavy was her lifeless body when she found her and tried to revive her with CPR and now it was a light bunch of ashes in a box. She thought of all the atoms that made her daughter's body, all the fusions and collisions that had happened in billions of years in the forge of the stars that were now gone and that somehow got together to form such a beautiful girl that had brought so much happiness and hope to her in he short life. She reflected on how all these atoms were constantly changing, transforming, combining, reacting as her daughter grew. In how they were still being transformed, by the fire of the cremation, but they were all there in one way or another, still part of this universe. All that we are is a bunch of atoms combined, reacting and transforming one another. The dust of the stars. Maybe that's the celestial body mentioned by the ancient people. We are made of stardust and to the stars we return as dust.
This idea was at the same time tragic and wonderful, but neither that, nor the Lazarus story could bring her any comfort.
First when he left, at 15, with his heart bitter with resentment that he never explained.
She cried everyday, all day long. Her husband, out of pity on her misery, suggested them to have a child.
The daughter born 9 months later saved her. It was a new beginning, her daughter was more than perfect. She was a dream fulfilled.
The second time she lost her son was when he died, at 25 suffocated in his desperation and hopelessness.
Her soul cried deep inside with an infinite sorrow. Again her daughter saved her, because if wasn't for her, she wouldn't continue alive.
Now, at 15, her daughter died. She didn't have enough tears to cry anymore. A furious rage started eating her entrails, poisoning her blood, crunching her heart: "I miss you so much that my heart aches to pump and my blood crawls slowly through my veins".
During the memorial mass, while the priest was explaining about Lazarus and how we are all going to assume a celestial body at the end of times, she could only stare at the box with her daughter's ashes. She remembered how heavy was her lifeless body when she found her and tried to revive her with CPR and now it was a light bunch of ashes in a box. She thought of all the atoms that made her daughter's body, all the fusions and collisions that had happened in billions of years in the forge of the stars that were now gone and that somehow got together to form such a beautiful girl that had brought so much happiness and hope to her in he short life. She reflected on how all these atoms were constantly changing, transforming, combining, reacting as her daughter grew. In how they were still being transformed, by the fire of the cremation, but they were all there in one way or another, still part of this universe. All that we are is a bunch of atoms combined, reacting and transforming one another. The dust of the stars. Maybe that's the celestial body mentioned by the ancient people. We are made of stardust and to the stars we return as dust.
This idea was at the same time tragic and wonderful, but neither that, nor the Lazarus story could bring her any comfort.
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