Happy birthday dad

To rephrase this song:

Pain, pain fatal pain

It plays hideous tricks on the brain

Today was my fathers’ birthday. Had things gone ideally he would’ve been 62 years old and starting to enjoy retirement. Instead, he’s been dead for nearly three years and his remains are in a cemetery in a small Colombian town.

I want to say so many things; chiefly I wish I could lash out for his passing away and to let go of all the sadness and misery I’ve bottle up regarding his death. Yet for the sake of my family’s unity and progress (especially my mom’s sanity) I continue to look out for them more than me and I try to help them trudge forward.

It is this sacrifice for others which embodied my late father and that followed him to his last moments. (When he died he had been sweeping the floor and doing some light cleaning despite needing the rest after a ridiculously hard week at work. He didn’t have to do it and he was physically beat, but he wanted to neaten things up for us).

A quick anecdote: many years ago I was conversing with my dad. I asked him if he had such such a wonderful job, increased income, and was constantly surrounded by family in Colombia then why did he leave it all behind to start from square one in the U.S. His reply was simple: “I did it for you and your brothers.” Naively I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying; it seemed irrational that he would leave behind the cusp of his youth and so many things that gave him joy and satisfaction. He wanted to provide his future wife and kin with the freedom that he knew they would enjoy. His life in the U.S. was filled with obstacles especially in the first few years but he derived joy from our comfort and well-being. It was a concept that at the time seemed alien to me.

Yet in the many months since his passing I’ve grown to truly appreciate his words and the impetus behind them. His unselfishness and care for others was his legacy and it is something my brothers and I try to carry on. His memory and spirit will continue and hopefully grow in the upcoming years. He deserves it as he rests in peace from the heavens above; pleased, happy, and looking down upon us.

Perhaps cremation is better

The following video clip returns to the theme of humor and death that has been prevalent in several of my recent posts. It is from one of my favorite television shows- "Reno 911!"

All I have to say about the clip is that I sincerely hope that does not occur during my funeral.

(Video link):

Death according to Woody Allen

"Wheat."

"Wheat."



(Video link).

Be prepared

Rather than mope on the subject of death, I'm opting tonight to sort of fight back. With humor.

(Video link):


(Via Metafilter).

Off tomorrow to campus to tie some loose ends. Hope it goes smoothly!

Ashes to ashes

Just a few minutes ago I received some unexpected news; one of my best friends and classmates from high school passed away on Saturday. He was disabled with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy and it appeared as if he passed away due to complications related to that.

It has been very sobering news and it's incredibly hard to come to grips with it. I hadn't heard anything about him in about five years. Hence, to be told that he died has come as a terrible shock.

Despite my not being in the best condition emotionally over this news I will find out if there will be a wake this week. If possible I shall try my best to attend not so much for my sakes but as a representative of his fellow class and school alumni.

In the meantime I will reminisce the many great times we had years ago. He passed away far too soon, yet I feel very fortunate to have known him. It's unjust that he had to die, yet we cope with it and try to emulate the good examples he taught.

Rest in peace, old friend.

The benefits of benevolence

I've been a wreck for the past few days. Mourning and being nostalgic for my father doesn't usually brighten my spirits. Much like last year I try to live without regrets and move forward little buy little. Yet the pain from dad's death as well as 9/11 continue to hover like a fog in my mind.

One of the many lessons my dad taught me is never take things lying down and to always fight for justice. For the most part it has its advantages in that I've learned to try to be virtuous and become a more independent person. The downside to which I fall trap of is that I sometimes cross the thin line between being correct and being bullheaded.

head of the household since his passing away. In doing so, I've taken up a multitude of responsibilities that have been thrust upon me. It's a role I take great pride in doing even in those rare occasions that I Yet my main point is that he was wise in telling me his advice since I've become the de factowould not like to.

My ultimate hope is that when all is said and done I've done an extraordinary job not necessarily for my sake but for my family and loved ones.

I am certain he would not have wanted it any other way.

Weeping and praying

Tomorrow and Tuesday constitute the toughest 48-hour period for me to get through. September 10th will be the second anniversary of my dad's death while the next day will be the six-year mark of the 9/11 attacks.

control her emotions. It's incredibly hard to put up with so much suffering and I don't blame her for her constant crying and lamenting. Unfortunately, such actions provide me with little solace and Tonight was very difficult in that we were praying all together yet my mom justifiably could notonly serves to feed the hidden anger I have over his passing.

Two years.

It's quite a long time.

I don't know with what strength, energy, or sanity we've managed to make it to this point. But even in my grief and sadness I'm glad that we've gotten to this point.

And hopeful that we will continue for many years to come.

"Sometimes I just don't know"

Bloody hell, I hate oversleeping.

Mom went out today to do run some errands in downtown Flushing. In a surprising move, she returned with a few small gifts for one of my bros who will be starting his first full-time job on Monday. We're all very proud that he's reached such a momentous and deserved occasion in his life. Now he'll enter the grind of busting his back at his occupation and hopefully it'll work out.

She also got some Colombian food from Jackson Heights which we devoured like Amazonian piranhas. Rotisserie chicken, beans, rice, fried plantain, and to top it off she stopped by Carvel to get an ice cream cake for dessert. Real good stuff.

Mom's on the phone now with one of my aunts in Colombia. I'm eager to find out how everyone's doing, especially grandma. I really hope she doesn't lose it though I understand if that happens to be the case.

So far I've yet to write to any long lost acquaintances/friends/colleagues. I better get crackin' on that tonight.

Though I don't regret the decision to miss the Joe Vasconcellos' gig last night, I've spent some time checking out concert footage of his on YouTube. Yes it would've been nice to go, but like the rest of the family I must pay my proper respects to Uncle Javy's death. He was one of the kindest, gentlest souls I've ever known and we all miss him very much.

MP3: Bill Withers - I Don't Know

Adios Joe, I got to get back to work

I had planned for weeks to go see Joe Vasconcellos tonight at the Queens Theatre in the Park. I had really looked forward to enjoying his eclectic Chilean folk and rock stylings in a live venue. Yet it was not to be since I'm paying respects to Uncle Javy who died on Monday. I could not in good conscience go to a concert mere days after his passing and keeping in mind that my entire family is very sad and upset about his death.

Maybe next year I'll see Joe in concert so as long as the circumstances are right.

In the meantime, I will respectfully mourn the memory of Uncle Javy and hope that my family can slowly but surely move forward. I am certain that they can though my biggest fear is that my grandmother will not. Though she has always had a very strong attitude, she is in her 90s and is getting increasingly weak physically. A few hours ago we spoke on the phone for the first time in weeks and I could tell in her voice that she feels very frail and vulnerable. She and Javy were very close and it's hard to imagine how things will be like for her now that he's gone. I hate to have this anxiety in my mind; a worry that is shared by most of the family. It's an uncertain situation and only time will tell how she will react to it in the (hopefully) long run.

Selfishly speaking I must take advantage of the weekend to resume some work that I left behind over the past week. My UN work has gone untouched and I need to contact my supervisor ASAP. I've been in something of a writer's rut regarding the thesis work though I hope to get the ball rolling again on that quickly.

Crap, I forgot to send the e-mails to long lost friends and acquaintances. There's another thing I have to do on the weekend.

I wonder if she still remembers me?

Gone

He's gone.

Uncle Javy's gone.

He wasn't improving at all during the weekend and this morning he passed away.

His entire family here and there are absolutely devastated and I'm certainly no exception to that.

My mind has been dull and unfocused all day. I barely got any work done. I just don't want to do anything until I can stop feeling so numb and helpless.

Yes, life goes on. It was a harsh lesson I learned all to well after my dad suddenly died. But I feel like being in stasis; unmoving, blank, still.

Inasmuch as I want to stay home curled in the fetal position I cannot. I have to go see my cardiologist on Tuesday and find out the results of my stress test. As if I weren't enough an anxiety-ridden wreck now I have to add worry over my health to that.

Most family over there have taken the news relatively well. That is, they're not in hysterics or paranoid. I really hope my grandma can pull through with her emotions and not become ill due to this.

It hurts far too much.

What else can be said but to take things day-by-day, little-by-little.

Adios Javy.

Hoping against hope

A very close uncle in Colombia has been on death's door since Friday. He is by far one of the smartest people I know in terms of his desire to learn and to acquire knowledge. Despite his little formal schooling he tries his best to comprehend the many ideas and issues in the world around him.

Now he's clinging to life while being hooked up to machines and tied to a hospital bed on the outskirts of Bogota.

He should've been dead based on the sporadic information I've been told by family over there. He had been very ill for several weeks yet nobody suggested that he see the doctor nor had he shown the initiative. It was not until Friday morning that one of aunts noticed his extremely weakened condition and took him to the clinic in La Palma. After being given several IV packets he was whisked via ambulance to a larger clinic several towns over, then to Bogota.

At every step of the way the doctors were amazed that he wasn't dead and noted that he was literally fighting for his life. Yet he could pass away at any moment despite his almost superhuman efforts to pull through.

I've been a wreck all weekend long trying to keep it together but it's been incredibly difficult. I'm hoping against hope that his situation can improve and trying to give the impression of being calm, cool, and collective much like in the aftermath of dad's death. It's just a weak facade, however, and everyone knows it.

In the meantime my family's playing the waiting game to wait and see how his condition has been. We're preparing ourselves for whatever news arises; good or bad.

Praying and wishing and thinking and weeping.

We'll just have to wait and see.

Anxiety over Death

Friday was a day were I had to deal with death in the form of a distant colleague dying as well as one of my family members on the verge of dying.

I can barely think straight, to be honest. The shock has yet to dissipate. I'm a nervous wreck. My plans to see some friends at the Cafe Tacuba concert on Saturday have vanished because I feel so out of my element. I don't want to go out and I would much rather stay at home in some seclusion.

Perhaps I'll go into more detail tomorrow.

In the meantime prayers are in order along with the hope that the family of the deceased can move on and the ill family member can pull through.

“Denial” isn’t always a river in Egypt

I have just sent to several of my closest friends a message that has taken me months to formulate. After I returned from Colombia in January one of the messages left on my answering machine was of the death of a very dear and amazing teacher I had in elementary school. I have not been as tough as I used to when dealing about matters related to death which makes writing the message so much more difficult. It hurts too much to fathom that she’s gone and I don’t wish to imagine how my friends react to the grave news I will tell them. However I must be responsible and deal with it and do the honorable task of informing them.

I regret not having the willpower to have called him, especially since my answering machine doesn’t have his message anymore.

I just don’t know how I will come to grips with this.