And certainly, we all have to follow the light, even if we are not prepared for it...
Since I am not so good talking with people, I'll just, write down what I've been through, as I've been doing up to now... This is a journal, where I keep memories, and from time to time, I read these memories to remember how I felt in a particular moment of my short existance.
I'll ask a question. Open for whoever wants to answer it...
Do you know how does it feel the feeling of loss?
Out there, there must be millions of people who have lost someone, or something cherished. So cherished that it became part of our lives, So cherished that we thought it would last forever, So cherished that we took for granted the fact it will always be there... So cherished, but at the same time, so temporal...
Through my 25 years, I've met people who have gone through the loss process, people who have lost their parents, or their grandparents... Most of the time, Loss is an act of making the iron stronger, meaning by iron the people who went/will went through that loss...
Loss is not only what makes you a loser. Loss is, taking again my own words... Losing something or someone that somehow was a cherished part of your life.
In my own personal history, I've gone through loss since I remember. The loss of friends, the loss of feelings, the loss of one of my grandparents (My dad's mother), and the loss of pets.
The first time experiencing the loss of someone arrived when I was 6 years old. My mom's grandmother (That means, my great-grandmother) died at age 90. From all her great-grandsons, I was the closer one to her, I remember visiting my grandma's house and running directly to her after I saluted my grandma. I remember I cried an awful lot when it happened...
The second time I experienced loss happened when my first pets, a couple of parrots, died. My dad gave to me those parrots as a gift after he came back from one of his business trips, and I was so happy when I had those beautiful creatures in my hands. They were my first pets so why not?!
What happened to them... Well, one day one of the parrots (I think the female one) appeared very, very sick and soon afterwards, it just died. And weird enough (Later on I understood why it happened), the other parrot died a few days later.
Too much going on for a little kid like me, but no one choses the events that would happen in life.
The most dramatic loss scenarios happened when one of my aunts died, and when my grandma (My dad's mother) died.
When my auntie died, I felt so weird. I'll be very open and honest, somehow I thought it was "justice" being done... because her daughter, a person who I cannot stand that much nowadays, brought a heavy shadow over my family's life, and unfortunately she still does.
I feel so sorry, and embarrased for feeling that back then, how could a 9 year old feel that? I think I know the answer... the answer is the pain I was goin' through because of the reasons I'm calling now, but I really, really feel deeply sorry for feeling that. She was innocent.
My auntie, for the record, was an extremely beautiful person. She had gone through a turbulent lifetime but she always stood still, and that's why I admire her. And she loved me a lot, to the point we always went for a walk while I was just 5.
I know it's too late to say this, but I always keep her among my lifetime greatest memories. Memories full of joy.
I was way too little when my dear grandma died (I was 9 or 10) and, at the time I was kind of in the middle of a heavy endurance process... that sort of marked what kind of man was about to become later on. So, it kind of went unnoticed for me. However, what shocked me was my dad's reaction. He barely could talk the days after it happened. I silently observed him for days, weeks, months, it was very hard for him.
Later on, I realised I was just like him, when I went through the loss process early in my teens.
While I was 10, my mom, just like my father did, gave me a big joy. This is another memory I cherish and remember cheerfully... I remember I was doing homework, and looking for my lil' baby uncle, and the bell rang. While opening the door, a little white furry ball appeared and ran quickly and I was like "A puppy? Hey you must be lost!" After this happened, my mom told me it was a puppy our neighbor just sold her and she gave it to me as a gift.
It was so awesome... I had a dog! But, he became quite agressive later on, maybe because I was kind of hard with him sometimes... But still, I loved my pet.
One day, after coming back from some classes I attended in order to approve some Pre-High School tests, some weird things happened. Being the first one, my mother buying me some gifts, clothes, shoes, all of sudden. To be honest, my mom rarely gave me gifts in a regular basis, I was ok with it, it showed me to value another kind of things, and not only the material ones.
While arriving home, expecting my dog's greetings, I was told by my mom that my dog died in the morning, just after being dropped at school. The thing that happened was that a car hit my dog, because the dog stepped in the middle to save my dad's life. In the morning, I was told my dog was in the streets, I was told a fucking lie. And while I was told my dog just died, I was angry, so angry that I was mad at my dad for lying me, I honestly didn't care if he was alive or not. I know, how could a 10 year old kid feel like that?
I know not all kids are like me, and I say this not pretending to sound "special" because I am not.
The day after, my mom found out another dog for me, out of pity because she saw me very, very depressed (It was the first time I went through depression). But it wasn't the same. Although, I liked the dog, I named her Darkie, because it was a big black dog. Unfortunately, since she was very, very big, we couldn't have her on our house. So she was sent back to where my mom got her... Another loss, in less than a week.
On a Sunday, I was told by one of my sisters that I was gonna get a lil' dog. I was kind of skeptical, but while I went to the pet store to get the puppy, it was so funny, so weird, that the puppy kind of "convinced" me to take him home. What makes this story more weird is the fact that the pet store's vet told me that this particular puppy was kind of "agressive" towards people who wanted to pick him up, and it was the first time he behaved like that with someone.
So finallly, I went home with this weird little furry ball, and I named him just like the other pet. Klinton. But soon, I started to call him Clay, because he was white as sand.
Where am I going with this story?
Clay, the pet who went through hard times with me, just died. He was 14 years old. Just like my dad, I didn't want to talk, and I still don't want to talk...
He died just after I arrived from my music classes, and told him "Thanks for being with me in the hard times.."
I think he was waiting for me...
If there is an Afterlife, I'll see you there. If not, thanks for all the memories...
You will live forever on my thoughts, my dear friend...
In Loving Memory
1996 - 2010
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