20 parts poemas de amor, 2 parts cotton sweaters from the gap. pour over tiny asian girl and shake.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

amalgam

life lately has been so amazing at times that i have had to pinch myself to confirm that, yes, indeed, my wildest dreams are coming true and i am becoming every day, the person i am meant to be. at the same time, because karma likes to exact a payment to keep the balance of the universe at a precarious zero, life has been incredibly trying.

ruben's mother was diagnosed with lung cancer last fall, and had her final surgery a week ago. we've spent the days watching her in the icu, confronting for the first time the meaning of death. before i used to always imagine death in its abortive forms - car crash, heart attack, not waking up in the morning. but death, or maybe life, has proved itself to be slow, soft, and cruel. when they say that there is no cure for cancer, they're not referring to a gap in the medical field, but rather, a gap in the human spirit. there are doctors, and hospital beds, and radiation, and nurses, and machines that go beep and artificial hearts, artificial any part of a body one may desire. science is so advanced now that it can beat cancer. it just takes so long that the human spirit often collapses before the body reaches the finish line.

she cries out sometimes in the night, trying to pull out her breathing tube and denying she can hold on much longer, even though we tell her she is getting more beautiful and healthier every day. given the emotional valleys into which we fall every time we visit, i can only imagine the abyss that grips her every moment she lies in that hospital bed, and whose darkness flashes through the cracks of her narcotics-fueled nightmares.

it is the hardest feeling to watch her bruised body curled up in the hospital bed, shaking every time she feels a jolt of pain, and knowing that there is nothing to do but wait, wait. watch and see how she is tightly nestled in a fetal position, her skin trembling with the fragility of a newborn. we are back where we started, with what we always knew—that life is fragile, but the threat of loss unravels us every time.

please send her your love and encouragement.

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I unofficially take photographs and charm people for a living. Officially, I received a B.F.A. from Cornell University, and am now on the West Coast making websites, planting gardens, and damning the man. Be my friend at carol[dot]why[dot]zou[at]gmail[dot]com.

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