Last week I visited my aunt who was diagnosed with melanoma, and put into hospice. She is at home, awaiting death. My aunt is thirty-three years old; a nurse; a mother; a role model.
I knew she was sick, I was told all about how skinny she was, and that she only had a short time left. I didn’t believe it though, I had too much hope. She was so strong, so young, how could it happen? She would definitely get better.
I could not believe my eyes. It was something I couldn’t even have imagined. Her knees were the size of my wrists. All skin and bones never reigned so true. Though, her stomach bulged from starvation. Her face altered from weight loss, I barely recognized her. My hope vanished in an instant. I had never seen someone dying, and I had never imagined it to be so painful to see.
I couldn’t speak, I didn’t know what to say. I had blocked out the reality up until that moment. My heart stopped. I hugged her, afraid to break her. I couldn’t say anything. How are you? How insensitive. I couldn’t stay in the room. I was weak. All I said was “I love you, I’ll see you later." I’m beating myself up for that. I know I won’t. It was all I could do. All I could say. I didn’t want her to see my tears. She doesn’t need that weight. Who the FUCK would say something like that to someone who has a week left of their fucking life. Someone who won’t get to see her fucking daughters wedding, or their son’s graduation. They’re babies. I can only imagine their lives once she’s gone. I sympathize most for my uncle. His pain he must be feeling, to see his wife in such condition. Too explain to his daughter that mommy is going to heaven. Which sounds fun until she doesn’t see mommy anymore. And I’m too weak to stay in the room. to take the opportunity to talk to my aunt for the last time…
I’m not even sure if she knows I visited her. Now I’m here waiting everyday for a call. Unable to stop images of her frail body from coming to my mind. To stop repeating my words in my head and how mad it makes me that that’s the last thing I’ll have said. How mad that there’s nothing I can do for her. That no one can do for her. That anyone could do for her family, her children, my uncle.
I’m angry at death for being such a bastard. And at everyone else for the anger I have inside at myself with no outlet. I’m angry that I get upset in the middle of the night.
I love you so much aunt Mel. You were ARE a truly wonderful soul. I am so lucky to have had you enter my life, and to have blessed my uncles life as you did. I’m so sad that it was such a short time I had to spend with you. What a little amount I was able to learn from you, and about you.Of your interests, your past, your struggles, your joys. I regret that I didn’t know more about you.
I will miss you so much. I don’t even have the words to explain.
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