Sunday, January 15, 2012

To live and to die

"Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
- Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

I don't have any followers on this blog yet. At least, that's what in draft is telling me. If you're following me anonymously, then maybe you care enough to know about my personal life. 
I have two grandmothers, and one grandfather. My paternal grandfather passed on before I even became: before I even was, he was gone. I've never even seen his grave. I didn't see a picture of him until two years ago. I'm almost twenty. 
My paternal grandmother's name was Bobbie. She was a strong headed woman with little regard to rules or regulations. She married an Italian immigrant at 16, and made two incredible children with him. She drank and smoked herself silly. She was beautiful.
I loved her. I always loved her. I say loved, because I just got a phone call from my mother. She passed on: hopefully to somewhere beautiful, where she has her husband that she lost over 30 years ago, her sister than she lost over 10 years ago, and her parents, whom she lost over 16 years ago. 
Even though we weren't always close, I will love her forever. 
Among e-mailing professors, and throwing clothes in a suitcase, I'm blogging about my dead grandmother. I guess the only way I can say why, is that I don't want to lose this feeling. Everything that I'm feeling in this very moment, I can't lose it. I don't know if anyone is reading, or if anyone is out there. But I may look back one day and see who I was now, and who I was then, and how I felt when tragedy struck. 
Until next time, be at peace.

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