Greener Pastures

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Is the grass always greener on the other side? Is it always neater? Or cleaner? Is it more popular over there because that’s where everyone wants to be? Or because everything they’re after is over there? That’s the place of attainability. Where we go and let all others fade and release into the Earth. We have to let go of all of the pain to see what’s on the other side but why are we fighting so hard to get there when we don’t even know what’s around the corner? Do I self-admittedly have to talk about these things on a place like the internet, when no I don’t need to say anything at all, I get that. But people always say it’s worth the fight to get through it, to push through the pain and let out of all the halls and call out that yes, it happened to me too. That’s the thing, is how do we get rid of all of the memories? How do we release all the pain we didn’t even know we’d carried along through the times. Only to always look to anything greener, anyways. I’m so tired of people telling me to look for the good, and to find something to laugh at. How about you? Can I laugh at you? Cause that’d be great and hopefully it’d work but who knows. Geez, people.

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7th Heaven

39

Keith and Eva were the type of people you read about in books. Always proper with a beautiful house on the corner and a babbling brook in the backyard full of peonies and flowers to water. A nice deck where we would go outside and eat breakfast and sit and chat. Their view was amazing in Canada. My brother and I would go up their on many occasion not worrying about the four-hour long drive. Oh, how we loved them. Our relatives aren’t very close in this family except for Keith and Eva. Mom’s parents weren’t that great to her, or me for that matter and so I hardly spoke to them. Even though Keith and Eva were mom’s aunt and uncle they’d acted more like friends and parental figures when she was in need. I loved Eva so much. She was even beautiful laying in the hospital bed well aware of what she was going through. She’d had a stroke sometime before and that ignited her downfall into today.

We were on our way to see Eva. Keith my Great Uncle had seemed more nervous than I’d ever seen him. He was always such a dapper, strong, respectful human being and so was his wife. Eva and him met at her seventeen years old and him eighteen and they never let go. He was high up in the military flying jets and they were both from Canada. Eva had never even gotten her driver’s license because they were always together and he was going to take her. Eva was always so elegant with her salt and pepper hair with bright blue eyes you couldn’t miss. All I knew was that she was on the seventh floor of the hospital.

“Oh, Keith! You just drove through the stop sign!” My mom exclaimed to him. “Oh , did I?” “Huh.,” was all he had to say with his beret on that I stare at in the back seat. It’s got a little red ball of yarn on the top making it so cute for him. Typical Keith, I think he’d had it the entire time we had them in our lives. He was the type where you would see one of those red “Canada flowers,” that pins on your shirt…he had a plethora of.

Keith and Eva were all about respect and they earned it from everyone they came across. But it’s the little things that are so humbling when I think of Eva and her boisterous laugh at the movie, Dumb and Dumber. Her mouth opened just wide enough to show her teeth but her grace in her hand trying to cover her mouth told of her beauty right there. I wanted to be just like her. “Such a shame,” I thought she’d think after her death. “Such a shame I am to her, I must be.”

“What floor are we on?” She’d ask. “The 7th,” Keith responded. “Isn’t that the floor where people come in to die?” Was her response. We all looked at each other and then to Keith, because no one else wanted to answer that question. “Don’t worry about that now, eh?” Keith said as we all took a sigh of relief that he said anything. I brushed her salt and pepper hair as mom talked to her. She could only see out of her right eye, so I made sure to stand at that side. I stopped looking out the window to the mountains with the skiers flying down the hill. It was hard to look at Eva because I knew it would be the last time I saw her. I always thought I’d want time to say good-bye to someone if they were going to pass, but the heartache it brings with it can sometimes be unbearable. It’s like, you know doom is coming and you try to embrace it but it just multiplies in its terror and keeps rolling at you like a scene in Indiana Jones. The rock was plummeting to me as I’d try to¬† run away but in this movie I can’t escape it.

“Andrea, Eva died today”…moments of silence are what ensue next. “Um, okay.” I flatly said. “I’ve got to go now, mom.” “Are you ok?” She asked me. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I said in return. Man, how my stomach turned inside out at the news. But I wasn’t going to cry, I thought. I couldn’t at work. But I should’ve. Holding these kinds of tears for this long is just so unhealthy. But at some point I feel like I’ve cried about everything else, so I must’ve grieved somewhere in there, right?