I wrote this to a dear friend of mine, but would like for you to read it too...
Dear One,
I find that when I am most in pain, I want to write you. Not journal, but write you.
Life is amazing. It really is.
Vigen, my dad's best friend in the world. One of the main reasons why I came to Armenia to find him for dad. And found him, amazing story. Amazing man, they way he loves.
Is dead.
He got brutally hit by a drunk driver and his daughter that loves him more then anything and his wife, brother and mother are alone without him.
It is Armenian tradition to have the dead in the middle of the living room. he had no legs, face covered with makeup .
His organs ruptured.
I am crying for this man that lost his life at 48. All he wanted was to love others, including me. I saw him most then anyone else here. I think besides my family, he is the only person that has ever loved my father.
He just left the house for a few minutes to buy a pack of ciggeretes.
I just celebrated his birthday with him. I dont know what to do.
I dont know how to look in the eyes of his wife. What can I possibly offer?
I am just the guest. Just the daughter of her husband's bestfriend.
The twelve year old daughter, her eyes wide open just turned 35.
I dont know Chatara, I am meeting death again and I dont know
I am not angry with g-d
i justI wonderwill it ever be explainable. How can it for a mother to burry her own child?
And it makes me think if I have to bury someone in my family. I dont know
I dont know if Icould do it.
Everyone is so much stronger than me it seems. How do they do it? How did you do it?I just want to be in bed. Cry. paint black around me and walk in it.
And that is only me, the duaghter, mother , wife...
He made love to her as he walked by, I saw it. The most tender, loving Armenian man I will ever come to know.
Sooooyeah.
Life is crazy.
But then theres babies.
Theres Nissas.
Theres Chataras
and Matts.
Life is trully amazing.
I love you girl.
Please, every second we are here its
a gift.
A gift given from g-d and at any second we can go back to him.One second. One second.
Every tick of that, my heart pounds for you too.
Peace be with you. Viktoria
Furnace
2 comments:
You shine sweetie. You have met him and his loved ones and they cherish you and what you represent. Without you the loss is no less painful only now you are part of their lives, deaths and their sorrows. What more could anyone ask. How much closer could you become. You are part of a family that will never forget. My heart is with you.
Always,
Matt
What's worse, new wounds which are so horribly painful or old wounds that should've healed years ago and never did? Maybe our old wounds teach us something. They remind us where we've been and what we've overcome. They teach us lessons about what to avoid in the future. That's what we like to think. But that's not the way it is, is it? Some things we just have to learn over and over and over again.
As doctors, as friends, as human beings, we all try to do the best we can. But the world is full of unexpected twists and turns. Just when you’ve gotten the lay of the land, the ground underneath you shifts. It knocks you off your feet. If youre lucky, you end up with nothing more than a flesh wound, something a band-aid will cover. But some wounds are deeper than they first appear, and require more than just a quick fix. With some wounds, you have to rip of the band-aid, let them breathe and give them time to heal
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