some kind of dream feeling sad; emotional.
I was drifting in and out of sleep over the last few hours and then my
phone rang, it was my mum. She asked me if I was in bed, I was but I
had been awake for about 10 minutes. By awake I meant thinking about
getting out of bed.
She sounded weak. Then she said she had some bad news. My aunt had
called my mum at 5:30 a.m. about their brother, my uncle. Last night
he had fallen down 10 flights of stairs, fractured his skull and
broken his neck. Apparently there was blood everywhere and a
helicopter had to pick him up and take him to a hospital.
I had just talked to him last week, he had just come back from Mexico.
A much needed holiday. My Aunt Trudy had passed away two Christmas'
ago and he had finally started to enjoy life again. Yes, he had cried
about her and about how much he still missed her but he had accepted
her passing. He had opened up his heart to someone new as well. He was
happy then, life had found new routine for him and he had accepted it.
There is talk of brain damage but I am not ready to accept that. He
was supposed to come and visit us here in Calgary next year. He grew
up here, the oldest son in a first generation Canadian Italian family.
A little house built by my grandfathers hands in Riverside which is
now known as Bridgeland.
Things change. Always. Can't control it and if you try it just causes
things to change even more. Things like this happen for no reason, as
much as we like to believe there is a bigger plan... Sometimes there
just isn't. Life happens, death happens, accidents happen, shit
I am always reminded though that little things don't matter; semantics
don't matter. Petty grudges and selfish choices don't matter. You
either want a person in your life or you don't and when it comes to
family you should accept everyone. Make the most of who you have and
what you have. If someone doesn't respect you then move on. This kind
of stuff just puts things into perspective for me.
I have so much, I am so lucky. Why taint it with dissatisfaction of
others. Why waste that energy. Why play games. Why worry about what
can be. I know it's just the way my mind works, but I have to keep
things in perspective.
I am reminded of a time last year when I watched an interview with
Elizabeth Smart. She had been kidnapped and taken away from her
family, abused and broken. She was so strong, so adjusted, I was
mesmerized. Envious. Inspired. I was at the heart of a phobia that I
had given in too. In my life I was terrified to eat anything that
might make me sick. My world had become small. Here I was crying over
a tummy ache and there she was, on Oprah, pouring out this heart
wrenching experience and she was so OK with it. She was so adjusted. I
felt selfish in my self infected misery. She didn't choose this yet
she was OK. It made me realize that some things really don't matter.
And then this winter, a had a few friends who were going those a lot
of crisis and chaos in their lives. Friends with broken hearts, Broken
dreams, lost jobs, lost everything. Abusive boyfriends, parents in the
hospital, family's being torn apart by a cheating spouse with another
life, lose of innocence. All these things that made my own broken
heart and disenchantment seems so small. Yes, a boy I cared about had
gotten drunk and treated me really bad. But I broke-up with him ASAP
and that was that. These things that were going on with my friends, so
sad... And all I had was one bad night. It made my issue of broken
heartedness and readjustment seem so petty.
Now this thing with my uncle, it makes everything again seem so
unimportant. A better grasp on perspective. Motivates me to deal with
the things I've been putting off. It also makes other peoples small
minded actions seem annoying and shallow.
Time to be support for my family and do the things that seem right. I
can't be everything to everyone but I can be something to those that