Dead Weight

Standard

That waiting;

That longing;

That burning;

That churning sensation.

The way you move, the way you walk, the way you talk.

Cold bed;

Cold feet;

Cold hands;

Cold heart.

Perfect hair, big smile, big talk.

No tears.

No smiles.

No hellos.

No goodbyes.

Good memories, bad memories, dead memories.

Existential

Standard

At some moment in time we came into being, and from one cell, each of us divided into many cells. The cells were growing in a pattern, a template of the human body. We came into this world kicking and screaming, completely naked. Raw. A ball of energy so powerful, we changed lives.  The world our families knew before our arrival was now changed. We brought change the second we began to form.

Ever thought about it? How we change one life, then two, then many? Ever thought of how we change our own lives ? Our decisions, regardless of the rationale or emotion behind it, impact us. We were going somewhere yesterday and a decision to deviate from that course changes everything.

And then there’s aging… God…how we change. My hair isn’t just a chocolate brown anymore, I find grey strands and strands in the process of turning grey. My face doesn’t yet tell a story after years of holding my forehead while I laugh,smile, cry or frown. Perhaps, that is my story- I held it together better than most would. I made some decisions -some in joy, some in anger, many in saddness and even more with the knowledge that I would be alright. I am here, living and breathing, regretting only the fact that I didn’t learn quick enough. Experiences were meant to happen – in the form of love, rage, fear, sadness, heartbreak and perhaps even people.

I tucked my grandmother in bed tonight. I’ve been tucking her in since I arrived two weeks ago. And every time I look at her, I am struck by a multitude of thoughts. They wash over me, leaving me with no definitive answers. Its because I havent dared to ask my grandmother how she feels as she ages? Does she regret experiences? Was her life all she thought it could be? What has she learnt…? The only answer I’ve gotten is what does she want to pass on, only because she has been vocal about it. I’ll keep her words to myself, but let me tell you that she doesn’t mention materials or big lessons. She mentions the small stuff, knowing that it will add up to big lessons.

Grandma looks so small, so frail. I didn’t even notice her transformation from robust to delicate. I didn’t notice my own growth, my owm change. I only began to notice the imprints when I became aware of myself and my surroundings. The noise of the world outside my head used to be loud; but my inner voice roars now. I’m not alone as long as I have me, no matter what the naysayers say. I allow no one to crush my spirit because my words are the only ones that matter to me. You only matter to me IF I let you in.

I changed my world, and in doing so, will change someone elses.