Love, possibly the most confusing, heart pounding, complicated feeling. When one has lost loved ones do they also lose the love? I like to think love is always around even if the carrier is not, or carriers.
A long time ago my dads’ cousin met his wife, and they would never leave each other. Their love would last forever through thick and thin, through sickness and health. They got married and had two boys. One is in college now and the other is out in the working world. When their children were in high school their mother came down with a sickness. She, gorgeous beyond belief, walked in a room and she’d make it shine. She made everyone laugh, always lightened the mood.
Eventually, she got very sick. So sick she couldn’t walk and had to use a wheel chair. She had tubes in her, with a clear, thick, liquid slithering through it. My parents told me what was happening. I, too young, didn’t understand. One sunny, steamy day we drove down to Akron to my cousins’ graduation party. They had a cake that tasted like clouds that could make any one feel ecstatic and happy. My whole family was there even my dads’ cousin and his wife. She looked upsetting, seeing what this disease had done. I barley recognized her, even though I didn’t really see her often. Sadly I thought “whose grandma is that”. But, when she held her husbands hand she was as beautiful as before, she never let this monster get the best of her with him by her side.
One horrific day, it was raining cats and dogs. The weather ruined any fun. At a time that’s supposed to be bright and happy, spring. She had gotten worse, to the point of her death. It was the first funeral I ever went to, didn’t know how much I would dread them. After the funeral, we went to their house to morn her death. I didn’t have any food yet, I could have ate a cow I had been so hungry. So my dad asked his cousin for food, he was practically dead himself, he looked as if when his light would shine could never come back, his light would not come back. He had the glare of dead, his eyes down, head down, looked dark and droopy. He realized the pain that comes with the burden that comes with death. I could not mention a thing, I couldn’t speak.
We spoke of them every so often after the funeral. Sadly, not only but three weeks later he came down with an illness too. He had been in the hospital for a week. I wondered how my cousins feel, one parent dead, and one in the hospital. Like his wife, he went on a miserable day too. We got the phone call on the way to the mall.
My dads’ cousins’ life died with his love. On his funeral I noticed something, love that had lasted forever, names next to each other on one stone, and they were next to each other. That night when we went to their house I saw the youngest son. He had the look only he could have a look of what to do now, and of loss. He had a blank face, but sad at the same time, head down like his dad. This time I whispered “I’m sorry.” And I realized their love never really died, it’s just with their sons now. So I guess my belief that love can never really die, it carries on forever, never destroyed.
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