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  • Writer's pictureRowena Similar

Box

I find myself tapping into the grieving mentality whenever I have a dream about my sister.

Last night, I had a dream that I was telling her that I’m not sure how I can take her and my mom in when we buy a house.  And she told me not to worry about her but to just think about mom.  She was still alive and well.  Like no sickness ever touched her body…. no tumors, no pain, no cancer.

Then I woke up feeling like shit again.  I miss her soooo much.  I can only imagine how much she would spoil my baby.  And how she would think he’s super cute because he’s chubby.  I try to hang on to faith… but sometimes it’s really really difficult when life has had more downs that ups.

Then I think about my Dad.  And those last few months/days when he was under hospice care.  He hated it.  I’m not super sure what could’ve made it easier or what could’ve made him happier.  Things were rough… I’m sure at times he felt like we weren’t doing everything we could to get him “cured.”  He wanted to be “cured.”  There were times when he said he wanted to die… but I know deep down inside, he would’ve rather lived.  I am glad he at least got to meet Roman.  What’s sad is he didn’t get to hold him when he was still strong.

Then I think back to his funeral service.  I thought it would be easier this time around because we were prepared.  And that his plans of being cremated would be easier than seeing him lying in a coffin, lifeless.  But no… the same emotions came back.  It got me thinking about my sister again.  And I can’t help but think… a body is now is a tiny box.  It really hurt… seeing my dad in a box.  Just the other day, I was giving him head massages… now he’s in a fucking BOX.  And it brought me down to soooo many tears.  I felt empty again.  And the priest “talked” to my Dad in a box.  That shit was weird.  SoOOOOOoo weird.

Then we go to a cemetery and he is locked up in a tiny square on the wall.  Idk how I feel about that.  I don’t know if that’s any better than being burried in a casket underground.

Then I look at my Baby… and he’s just so beautiful and full of life.  And I just want to give him the best and teach him how to be a good person.  Then I start thinking about how I can’t even afford a fucking house here in California.  And I start thinking about how much I want to be with him and maybe work part-time.  But it’s just not possible.  fuck life is hard.

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