Five Months

So, I'm new to this whole... online blogging stuff. I usually do it on flickr, but I feel like my descriptions get too long sometimes, haha. So, I'll give this a try.
Today is March 12, 2009. On October 12, 2008, my great aunt died. It's hard to think that she's been gone for five months today. It's also kinda weird... She was someone that was there for me everyday of my life from the moment I was born. For fifteen years she was there for me, and for my mother, her whole life as well. She had helped with my brother and sisters for the longest time to make the load on my parents easier. I mean, she was one of those people that were cut-throat about their religion. She tried so hard to make us go to church and pray everyday, haha. It did get on our nerves, but she was an old lady (By the way, my mother's side of the family is Roman Catholic, and my father is Jewish. Story for another day).
We all had those days where we were a bit... short with her, but she was always nagging us about the smallest things. Pens, and water and everything in between. But now that she's gone, I miss it. I wish I would wake up to her asking how cold it was outside and come home to ask if I saw "Bob" ("Bob" is my ex's codename. You know, anonymity and such). Or whenever I went to karate, she'd ask the same thing; "Will you see 'Bob' there?" I would always sigh and groan, saying I didn't know.
But she was always very... enthusiastic. She loved anyone that walked in the door. You could break in with a plan to kill every single person in our home, but she would just sit there and talk. She would love them and say; "I'll pray for you". And she always did. I miss that.
She was devoted to her religion, like I am devoted to my karate. Haha, Ah-Ah loved that I was in karate. She would always ask how it went, how I did, if I had a test, etc. It was like, "Ah-Ah, I'm a Shodan. I don't test for another two years." Well, back then I was a Shodan. I wish she could see me now. Physically, see me.
She was less than a month away from seeing me run home with a brand new rank in hand. She was less than a month away from finally getting an answer to; "How did the test go?" But unfortunately, she just couldn't hold on for that much longer. It was hard to see her go because the immediate family had to watch her slowly deteriorate in front of our eyes. It wasn't easy.
One Sunday after "Sunday Dinner", she was watching the God Channel (that's what we all call it) when my mother walked in after dropping off Grandma and my Aunt. She looked at my mother and said, "Oh, by the way... I'm dying October 14th." My mother just looked at her crooked and asked what she meant. Ah-Ah explained that "they" came down and told her. Apparently if people pray everyday and fufill their daily obligations, an Angel will tell them a week before they die.
My mother just brushed it off and laughed.
On Tuesday, my aunt went into such a bad respiratory distress, we thought she was going to die right then and there. But she didn't. My mother being a nurse helped her and calmed her down before going back to bed, cautiously. Wednesday my aunt got worse. The didn't have the energy to get out of bed. Well, barely. She still hobbled her way into the bathroom a few last times. Thursday she was completely bed-ridden and almost completely inable to speak or do anything but sleep. She was always tired. We all stood by her side and made her comfortable in her death bed (quite literally. Hospice delivered a bed for her), telling her things. Earlier that day I called my ex boyfriend. I called him because he knew my aunt, and how much love she had to give. I thought that he would have cared about me and how much I was hurting, but he didn't. He broke the promise he made the day he broke my heart. "I'll always care about you. Just call and I'll be there." Want to know what he told me?
"You don't seem upset."
What you have to understand is that my mother raised us very well. But she's an Irish woman that doesn't show her emotions. And those lessons that her mother taught her, she passed onto us. I have only seen my mother cry twice, in my entire life. So I hide my emotions and don't let anyone see me hurt. It's a lesson hard forgotten, it's something I am used to.
Also, when my sister went to work that night, she went over to my aunt to say goodbye. My older sister bent down to kiss her goodbye and say that she would be back soon, when my aunt lifted her arms to hug her. She tried her hardest to say I love you, but the words just couldn't form and come out of her throat. She tried to hard, but she couldn't say it. God, it killed me.
And by Friday, she didn't do anything but breathe. We stayed home from our father's that weekend. We all held her hand by her bedside for a while. My neighbor came over to lift our spirits and play some blackjack for a while. It lasted somewhat long...
To whomever is reading this: My aunt died at exactly 9am when mass ended on Saturday, October 12, 2008. That was the second time I had ever heard or saw my mother cry. She had told me not an hour before that she was going to get coffee for herself when I was still in bed. She didn't want to leave my aunt's side. But she went, and I couldn't get myself out of bed long enough to sit with her. I'm so selfish. I should have gotten my lazy ass out of bed to sit with her and tell her everything I wanted to before she left me. But I didn't. I slept.
At 9am, my mother ran up the stairs, crying her eyes out and flinging open the doors to our bedrooms. She choked out that Ah-Ah was dead, tears pouring down her pale cheeks... I ran downstairs ahead of my little sister, but behind my older... And I saw my aunt... Lying there... On that bed... Dead.
Have you ever had to see that, my friend? It's something I would not wish upon my worst enemy. It was weird. My first real dead body and I flipped. I burst into tears and went into denial like most people would. I ran out the door after saying some prayers and kissing her goodbye. I didn't want to be there when she was pronnounced. I ran down to the only place I knew.... Karate. My instructor saw how much of a mess I was and just stopped. The kids kept going. Even though I am an instructor as well as a student at karate... They still kind of... Didn't want to see me a mess. So they didn't.
I stayed around karate until the end of weapons class and just cried.
It's been five months since that week and day... And I still haven't gotten over it. She was closer to me than anyone ever was before. In a way I wish she hadn't died and I would still have her, but in another, I'm glad she's gone. I say that because... She's rid of all her sickness and compulsive behavior... But I need her.
I saw her in some dreams of mine and I woke up crying. I want to see her again, hold her, kiss her, love her. Physically. But we still remember her. Her funny memories and ridiculous things she did... Everyday.