Goodbye
It was a Monday, the eleventh of August; the world was mourning the death of the great Robin Williams. It was sad but it didn’t really matter to me, death is a tragedy but it’s inevitable. I will forever remember the saying, “The only thing guaranteed in life is death”. But then the day took a turn for the worse.
My great-aunt was diagnosed with cancer about two years ago. I can still remember the first time I saw her after she started chemotherapy. I could barely recognize her, her face was swollen, she had lost all her hair, she hardly resembled my upbeat, fun loving aunt that I had seen just a few months ago.
But then something happened! In May, she showed up looking to a family even the best she’s been in years, she was smiling and laughing, her hair had started to grow back, the swelling started to go down, and everything once again seemed right in the world. Little did I know this was going to be one of the last times I will ever see my aunt.
At the beginning of July we got news that things have changed for the worse. The cancer has started to spread. They put her back on chemotherapy but they were too late. On August 11th, when the world was mourning Robin Williams, I lost my aunt.
Everyone has a moment, a rare time in their life where everything has changed. The funeral was one of those for me. One thing that happened, that will haunt me for the rest of my life is when we were putting her away forever, it was quiet, aside from the sobs and the stupid violinist, whom I hated for only adding pathetic fallacy during the sad parts of life. All of a sudden one of her sons let out an cry, “NO! DON’T DO IT!”, and then I hear my grown uncle let out a sob “My little sister”. That has probably been the saddest, most heartbreaking moment in my life thus far.
The worst part about death is trying to accept the fact that you will never see that person again, hear them talk, see them smile, hear their laugh, it’s all gone. “A good-bye is never painful unless you're never going to say hello again.” (The Top Tens) Saying good-bye to her is one of the hardest things I have ever done. The tragic part is, I’m not the only one saying good-bye, she left behind a loving husband, 3 kids -all younger than me-, 9 siblings, and a large amount of extended family and friends.
It felt like a movie. I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that she’s gone. If I don’t think too hard about it, it like I’ll see her at the next party, she’s fine. But now when we go to events it feels like something is missing, her warm, loving, presence is no longer their. Every so often we realize that, and it’s just little things, like Thanksgiving dinner, or when I walk past her memorial card on the fridge and stare at it long enough. That’s when we realize that she’s gone and she that she left too early, RIP Zia.
