Rage, rage against the dying of the light. (1619 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 2 on 35 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Smurfs (View user info) at 2005-03-07 16:23:43 EST
Usually, I fall asleep to the nuclear glow of the television. Benefits of insomnia include memorized infomercials and having watched everything on HBO and Showtime on demand.
Insomnia isn't the glory of college, where you can drink it away silencing your mind at the bottom of a pint. Insomnia is laying in bed, watching the shadows dance on your ceiling and wishing you had either the energy to get up and do something or had not popped the last of your Vicadin.
Sometimes I sit up at night thinking.
There are few things I fear. One of them is my mind. Never stopping, self-perpetuating. A Linking images, dreams, desires, worries, stress, fears, anxiety, happiness, it rolls and rolls and rolls, with nowhere to stop.
Last night it focused in on the three months of my life that saw the demise of all three of my grandparents. I'm still shamed over my reaction to their deaths - not even numbness, but an optimistic indifference. Joking at their funerals, making my mother laugh, shrugging at question, watching my uncle cry, my father destroyed. Sitting with my sister on one of those floral couches, the sticky aroma of flowers seeking to cloy the permeating scent of death.
Staring at their plastic flesh, pink from the red dye added to embalming fluid. Their eyes closed, an almost ridged contact lens, an eye cap, that sits in the hollow keeping their eyelids from fluttering open and betraying the remaining cavity, the orb having quickly disappeared.
You'd never know its plumpness was from cotton stuffing.
And that peaceful smile? Held together by a mortician's stitching around the jaw. The goal is to enter and exit through the same hole.
Sometimes curiosity is not a good thing.
My grandfather's cheeks were as smooth as a baby's bottom. It actually didn't register at first, this post-mortem shave, done by a single razor that's then thrown out. You have to be careful, in death the skin won't heal. But in life I don't think I'd ever seen him without a five o'clock shadow. Seventy-two years of stubble will do that to you.
I wonder if how the traditional Italian alpha male would react to wearing lipstick and blush. A surprising amount of cosmetics students have spent some time in a funeral parlor.
I lifted my grandmother's chin to look at the thin slice across her carotid artery. If they weren't already dead, morticians could easily be charged with murder. In death though, there is no blood, and the embalmer probably stuck his finger into his incision and pulled out what looked like a small length of rubber tubing, hooked it into the embalming machine and started pumping.
The results are immediate, rejuvenation. I look closer and notice her wrinkles are painted on. The plasticizing affect of the embalming fluid can drop twenty years off the elderly; if you pay extra the corner will make sure you still recognize the laughter lines around grandpa's eyes.
All of this itemized and cataloged the whole process for me. Death has this inhuman element to it, which I guess is somehow appropriate. The person has lost what it was that made them your grandmother, your grandfather. They are silent and cold, arms folded unnaturally across their chest, in a coffin.
My first thought always jumps to Dracula.
I know why I looked into the facts after death... because I couldn't deal with the facts before.
Have you ever had prostate cancer explained to you? The doctor told my little sister than it's like you are decaying form the inside. The brochure in the lobby had cartoons of black blobs attacking the body. Their eyes narrowed with fingerless hands clutching spears.
I thought of the Zulu Nation. I wondered if the ad company was racist. I wondered if they had anyone in their family die of cancer and really thought that the image of cartoon worms stabbing my grandfather's ass was really something that I wanted my little sister to ponder.
I told her to think of light and shadows, but I've always been metaphorical.
My grandmother had advanced Alzheimer's. I always hated the apostrophe in that word, nothing like naming a debilitating disease after yourself. Is it hubris or a ghastly memorial? This is a man who did his doctoral thesis on the wax-producing glands of the ear. Scintillating stuff here.
You can actually watch yourself fade away in the eyes of a person with Alzheimer's, the loss of yourself is almost life affirming. You constantly need to remind yourself you exist. They stare at you... just... not comprehending. I held my sister the first time her grandmother, a woman whom she had seen fairly regularly for twelve years, asked who she was.
You can tell a person has Alzheimer's by the mirrors in their eyes.
The three of them, their last months were filled with hospital visits and tears. Long nights chased by pill-cocktails designed to induce short days.
Broken hips, as the cancer ate his marrow.
Forgotten faces, as the disease ate her mind.
A shallow skeleton, as his appetite diminished.
Constant reminders as we disappeared.
Silent visits holding sleeping hands.
Holding my sobbing mother.
Comforting my apologizing father.
Explaining to my sister.
Watching my family torn apart.
'I'm Michael grandma, your grandson. No, no... I'm not in elementary school anymore. I just graduated college; I'm working at a Law Firm. No, not with Uncle Billy, he's dead grandma. I'm living on my own, in Brooklyn. I'm supporting myself; I'm going to go to law school. I'm the first of us to go to college; I'll be the first to do post graduate.
...Michael, grandma. Marie's son. No, she's not seeing that other boy, she married Tom. I'm their son. This is my sister, do you remember Katie?'
...
My grandfather died almost exactly a month before my grandmother. We never told her.
'No... you can't talk to grandpa, grandma, he's... sleeping.'
She died never knowing that she was following her husband to the grave.
...
I stare at my ceiling and I ponder Dylan Thomas through wet eyes. I mouth the words he wrote of his father's deathbed and deem him a fool.
A selfish fool.
User Reviews
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-12-20 12:33:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
damn
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2007-04-14 23:24:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Smurfs is one of the highest rated authors ever, and he has not posted for well over a year.
That is a crying shame...
Submitted by experima (user info) at 2007-04-14 23:02:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-04-14 22:40:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ih8u2man (user info) at 2007-04-14 22:26:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-04-14 22:15:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Umbilical_Cord (user info) at 2005-03-07 21:41:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Thats it. When I get that old, I'm taking the Hunter S. Thomson express lane to the end of the tunnel.
Submitted by stardamage (user info) at 2005-04-03 22:23:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Why did I not rate this before? I was sure I had.
This made me so sad both times I read it. Good work.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-03-09 00:45:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
From a fellow imsomniac. This was beautiful.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-03-08 02:13:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Your frame of mind aside... this is brilliant.
Submitted by spedmonkey (user info) at 2005-03-07 23:34:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't know how any comment can do justice.
Submitted by Shroom (user info) at 2005-03-07 22:40:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
How can I give you anything less?
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-03-07 22:19:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Really moving, man. Thought provoking and excellently crafted.
Submitted by Umbilical_Cord (user info) at 2005-03-07 21:41:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Thats it. When I get that old, I'm taking the Hunter S. Thomson express lane to the end of the tunnel.
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2005-03-07 21:04:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is why i love reading your stuff, sorry for the loss but wow you articulate beautifully.
Submitted by SpikeGoddess (user info) at 2005-03-07 20:48:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
watch "wit"
the HBO movie with emma thompson
Submitted by RideJohnnyRide (user info) at 2005-03-07 20:35:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by heyzues (user info) at 2005-03-07 20:05:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Whoa...That was freakin awesome....I mean...Wow.
I had a year like that, and I was the exact same way at my grandmothers funeral and at my other grandmothers funeral, then my two dogs died and then my cat. yea that was a crappy year.
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2005-03-07 19:02:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Amazing.
And I think you inspired me.
Submitted by bicklefragile (user info) at 2005-03-07 18:24:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is sweet due in large part to the reference to Dylan Thomas.
Submitted by Banga3386 (user info) at 2005-03-07 18:19:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by DonovanMD (user info) at 2005-03-07 18:12:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2005-03-07 18:05:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:46:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is eerily reminiscent of my sophomore year of high school. My grandmother died first - pancreatic cancer. My grandfather lost his will to fight the Parkinson's when she no longer came to visit. She was the only person he would ever smile for. His children, grandchildren - a warm look in his eyes, but he couldn't force those sagging cheeks into a smile.
I feel for you.
Submitted by Smurfs (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:42:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:19:20 (#)
Ranking: 2
You have been reading 'Stiff', I think.
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Yes, when it first came out, it was creepy where my own research had overlapped. (I did a short story on a mortician at one point) Great, great book.
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:18:30 (#)
Ranking: 2
ah, good story man. Might want to check the spelling of your post name on the MVA list. Think you fucked it up.
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I did, and fixed, thanks!
Submitted by Teephphah (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:18:04 (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
That's some healthy distance from your grief that you've got going on there. Its actually fascinating, in ways you may not have intended (then again, you tend toward the amazing, so, maybe you did).
Is it ALL emotions you have trouble with, or just grief and love (or are those two the same)?
So damned CLINICAL. Kind of creepy that way. The note-taking that must have gone on, the perverse detail . . . all to stay detached? Or maybe BECAUSE OF the detachment in the first place?
How fresh is all this?
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Last year in the fall.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-03-07 16:30:45 (#)
Ranking: 2
Is the the grandmother you wrote about before or did you just lose another grandparent?
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Same one, thanks for remembering munkeypants
Submitted by partisan (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:37:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Quality is high on Ubersite today,
and this is no exception. Truly excellent.
Submitted by nrduncan (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:34:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sorry to hear about your losses. It must be tough to take.
My gradmother also had alzheimers and it was very hard for me those last months.
Submitted by Badlands (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:32:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:19:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You have been reading 'Stiff', I think.
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:18:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
ah, good story man. Might want to check the spelling of your post name on the MVA list. Think you fucked it up.
Submitted by Teephphah (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:18:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
That's some healthy distance from your grief that you've got going on there. Its actually fascinating, in ways you may not have intended (then again, you tend toward the amazing, so, maybe you did).
Is it ALL emotions you have trouble with, or just grief and love (or are those two the same)?
So damned CLINICAL. Kind of creepy that way. The note-taking that must have gone on, the perverse detail . . . all to stay detached? Or maybe BECAUSE OF the detachment in the first place?
How fresh is all this?
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-03-07 17:03:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Goosebumps.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-03-07 16:45:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Either way, I'm sorry to see you so sad.
((( hugs )))
Submitted by Allicat (user info) at 2005-03-07 16:33:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
you're going to make me cry
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-03-07 16:30:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Is the the grandmother you wrote about before or did you just lose another grandparent?
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2005-03-07 16:29:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Harsh stuff Mike.
Keep smiling.
-Dave