I guess I'm supposed to say Aunt Elaine. The thing is though, as much as it fucking sucked, and it totally did, pretty much as soon as we left and got the smoke smell out of our stuff, our lives stopped being hell.
My nana was old. Old people die. It's like their job. Granted, she died earlier and much more suddenly than most old grandparents. Plus, her death was what killed Alex's voice and pushed her over the edge. It's like having your second mother die. Because that's really what she was. If my mother wasn't available to kiss a skinned knee, my grandma was always there to do it. She was simply the second parent who we happened to call Nana.
When Topher was joining the fire department, or applying to, my mom was not happy. They fought about it a lot. She didn't want him to have a job that involved dying. I vaguely remember something about the Navy surrounding this, so I'm thinking he told her it was either fire or water, and she chose fire because at least he'd be close to home. My class had a field trip one year to the fire station where we all sat in the trucks, rang the bell, all that fun stuff (they don't let kids slide down the pole on field trips). We got to ask questions like, "Will you really rescue a kitten if it gets stuck in a tree?" (yes they will), and "Do you ever spray someone with the water hose when you get mad at them?"
But nobody ever asked, "How often do one of you die?" When they talk to kids, firefighters stress that kids shouldn't hide during a fire, that they shouldn't play with matches, shouldn't use the stove or oven when home alone. They don't talk about being trapped in a burning building or how scared they are of dying. If one of the four of us siblings had to die, it should have been me. Topher was the only boy. He was my mom's favorite. Hell, he was my favorite. Even Aunt Elaine liked him, and she hates everybody.
My mother's death has made my life a living hell. Sure, I'm less in shock than I was at this time nine years ago, but I definitely still miss her all the damn time, and I still bump into situations where I need her every day. So my mother's absence has made my life a living hell.
4 comments:
What a haunting final paragraph. What a way to address the day's writing assignment.
Do you really feel you should have died, Sam?
Really, Sam, you could have a column in a weekly publication. You combine the personal with the social commentary so well. I'm just sorry you have so much sorrow to share.
How long after the attacks did your very sweet nana die? Did she die of a broken heart? What (officially) caused her sudden death?
I never quite realized that the death of your nana was like having your second mother die. Of course you were very close to her and miss her very much, and of course that last loss is what had you moving from Brooklyn, but that you'd feel her death that way? Very profound.
How much older than you was your brother?
I don’t even remember how I found your blog but I’ve spent the past week reading through all of your archives.
I have nothing of any value to say because I’m just some almost 35 year old mother of three from Ohio who might as well be from the opposite end of the earth for how different our lives are but….I feel like I can’t just be peering into your life through this blog and not make myself known in some way. It would feel…..disrespectful or something.
Girl….YOU.BLOW.ME.AWAY.
I could type for 6 days straight and not cover all the ways in which I think you are amazing/funny/insightful/strong/talented/giving/dedicated/smart/generous/loyal….the list goes on.
I hope my daughters end up 1/10 of the woman you are and even more than that, I hope that they value their relationship as sisters/family the way you and your sisters do.
YOU ARE PHENOMENAL.
You have a book in you. This is really good stuff on this blog. You write well, making it easy to relate to your experiences. Keep up the good work. I am working my way through your archives. Currently in 8/08. Cannot stop reading.
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