Loss PART 2: "I think I'll miss you most of all."

2005 A.D.… 

I had recently purchased the complete volumes of L. Frank Baum’s OZ Chronicles. I had watched The Wizard of Oz hundreds of times as a kid. It wasn’t that I was a big fan of the movie itself. They just seemed to play the damn thing over and over again on T.V. Eventually I had grown curious as to its relationship to the books. I could never find a decent copy until then. They were nothing like the movie. For starters, the actual Wizard story was only the first of fifteen tales in two tomes. It was also a little darker. Lets just say the Tin Man actually used his axe. Dorothy’s subsequent adventures were even more interesting and the whole thing felt a lot more elaborate and complex than the happy little munchkin musical of my youth. At one point Dorothy returned to the magical realm with her Auntie Em and Uncle Henry in an effort to save their lives. In Oz, you see, they would heal immediately and cease to age from that moment on. They would become immortal. This is bullsh**t. Why was I reading that kiddy crap anyway?

My neck hurt and my eyes were swollen. I had been reading for hours with nothing but a little flashlight in the dark. I stood up from the uncomfortable couch I had been lying on. I checked all the little machines. I didn’t know what they did. Then looked at her. She was asleep. That was good. I adjusted her little breathing mask. It had an annoying tendency to slip. She was so thin. I hate hospitals.

You grow up. You graduate from high school. You graduate from college. You get a job. You get a house. You buy a car. You pay the bills. You forge friendships. You fall in love. You fall out of love. You keep moving. You’re an adult. You’re ready.

I was 31 years old. I was doing quite well for myself. I had gotten a job as a professor at my old Alma Mater and to my surprise… I loved it! I was living in an awesome little apartment and had just purchased a brand new car! I was focused and I felt unstoppable! Isn’t this the part where something goes horribly wrong?

I had gotten a phone call from my mother telling me that my grandmother had fallen down and broken a bone in her foot. The doctors checked the break, applied the cast and sent her home. She was 89 years old but, up until that day, had been in relatively peak physical condition. We took her to get more X-rays and regular check-ups. She was doing fine. It was no big deal. I wasn’t worried.

The thing is, at that age, one fall can apparently set off a chain reaction and in a few weeks… she started losing weight. She’ll be alright. Soon after, we had to rush her to the hospital. She had become incoherent. Phrases like “blood transfusion” and “total system failure” were tossed around by people in white coats. How is this happening? All she did was fall down? She was fading. Fast. There were moments after a few transfusions and a veritable cocktail of drugs where it seemed as if nothing had really happened but those days were becoming few and far between. She stopped eating. She spoke less and less with each passing day. She couldn’t breathe. Till one day the only way she could speak was through her eyes. Too fast. This is happening too fast.

You’re an adult. There wasn’t going to be a happy ending. There wasn’t going to be some last minute miracle that would swoop down from the heavens and make this go away. There would be no OZ, no Neverland. I looked for anything that could ease my anxiety towards the inevitable. There were no books… there were no songs… there were no movies that would offer me comfort. There was no one to talk to. My mother was going through the exact same thing. Worse. This was her mom. My friends couldn’t help. I ignored my cell phone most of the time. I really wasn’t in the mood to hear well-meaning but altogether pointless lectures on the complexities of life and death. I knew them all. I had given them. I had too many memories of her. My entire childhood was layered with images of this magnificent person. My grandmother had been a symbol of peace. I had never seen her truly angry. She always helped people and valued family above all else. Stop it! Even when I behaved like a complete bastard growing up she never faltered. She really loved my mother and me and she was always so proud of us. Stop torturing yourself! There was nothing I could do. That’s life… deal with it. No room for childish dreams and wishes. There would be no magic here.

As adults we can deal with just about anything. We know the rules. We understand the logic. But there is always that little kid inside who simply doesn’t understand. What about him?

Another day. My neck hurt and my eyes were swollen. The couch was uncomfortable. When my mother arrived that morning, I took off. I went to work, did some chores, but instead of going straight back to the hospital, I went to the mall. I needed to walk. Just walk. I needed the noise. I wanted to keep the reality of it all from sneaking in. My grandmother is… no! I walked into random stores looking at nothing and everything. She’s going to…SHUT THE F**K UP! They were having an antiques show in the middle of the hallway. I like old coins… go look at the coins. There was nothing that could truly hold my attention. There was war waging between the grown up and the child. I’m not ready… please! Just look at the coins. Screw the goddam coins! Accept it. No. Accept it. NO… I DON’T WANT HER TO… huh?

My eyes locked onto a display counter in the middle of the mall. The sound of the crowd faded around me. The lights seemed to dim as I focused on a tiny corner of the showroom. Antique toys. I could care less but… my jaw dropped. I could not speak. It can’t be! My eyes widened. There are no miracles. I walked toward the little display. There are no signs, only coincidence. My legs were shaking. We see what we want to see. I dropped to my knees and put my hand to the glass. Then what the hell is HE doing here? He was exactly as I remembered him… a worn out rubber puppet with crusty yarn hair. Could it be? I looked him over for what felt like hours. IMPOSSIBLE! HE HAD HOLES IN HIS EARS! For a moment I was eight years old. I was back in Naranjito terrified of the lightning storm ahead. I found him. After twenty-three years I found him! My old friend!

"Found someone, you have."

TO BE CONCLUDED…