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caught up in the stream
of things
the streamers I made as a 10-year-old
still hanging from the rec room ceiling where my father tacked them
a long ago place
never touched
and now a new place
that takes me back to when I was 21 and how much I couldn’t enjoy my life then

The last words I’ll ever hear her speak are, “I’ve still got fight left in me.” Or maybe, “I don’t have no fight left in me.” I distinctly heard “fight left in me.”

I asked her how she was.  Dry: “I’m great.” Floated back into her morphine dreams or nightmares.

Later, when I was alone with her for a few moments, both of her hands in mine, I called her name. “Tywanua.” She opened her eyes. “Tywanua, I love you.” She was coherent enough to recognize me. “I love you, too.  I wish I could sit up a little more…but I’m just glad you’re here.”

 Atrocities of June 8, 2009

  • My aunt, who has terminal cancer, starts to rapidly decline as her body shuts down. There is concern she won’t make it through the night but the extra morphine improves her breathing and makes her more comfortable.
  • I see this otherworldly tumor on the side of her neck that makes me cringe and I’m glad my aunt is sleeping mostly. Not to be funny, but to give a visual: familiar with Coneheads on SNL? It’s like one of those heads is trying to grow out of the side of her neck. Ball your fists up, press them against the left side of your neck, and you can see how big that thing is. It’s like from a horror movie. Where the skin has been stretched to the limit and has cracked, she has bled. The whole top part has dark purple scabs and I’m sure some of that skin is black because it’s dead.
  • My family aren’t much of hand holders, but I know she likes to have her hand held so I try to model it for my family so that they can see the comfort it can give. Now, she’s hearing that she is loved and that’s all she (or any of us) has ever wanted.
  • My piece-of-the-most-unholiest-shit ex-uncle is a jealous, selfish coward. An obnoxious alcoholic, he keeps yelling at her, “you want something to eat, you want something eat?” I want to scream: She’s a little too busy with the business of breathing to eat. Besides, food will only prolong it now. Also, he apparently tries to have sex with her, while another aunt is in the same room, trying to sleep.
  • There’s too many people all around, wanting to desperately help her or those around her. The weariness of us all is heavy on the heart, and it’s the kind of heaviness that one can’t lose by going on a diet. It’s there for good.
  • I say goodbye to her and leave without a sob.
  • If not today,  June 9 or June 10, 2009 will be the day she dies. Maybe planning a death really is like planning a marriage. You concern yourself with the flowers and the weather.
  • Past and present tenses. She will die, but after that?  Will I say I had an aunt who died?  That tends to be the traditional form of reference. Or I have an aunt who died? Because is she still my aunt once she’s dead?  Will I ever be able to say I  lost an aunt or will it always be I am losing an aunt? I can’t go find her at the lost and found; she’s not a lost item or a lost person. Losing is active and implies infinity.

My friend, Lamar, recently posted about living in the past and the future and trying to find balance in the now. It made me think. I only have brief moments of clarity in which I totally feel the now. For example, I live in the now when I realize this or that sucks. When I have overeaten and feel ill, in this very moment.

Mainly, though, it’s somewhere other than now that I live.  This comes to the fore when yours truly, medicatedlady, signs herself up for an on-line dating service and the impossible questions arise, such as  “what are your current likes and dislikes.” My mind goes blank. I have no current likes or dislikes, other than I currently very much dislike these silly questions I’m being forced to answer.

Then, my brain goes backwards and forwards. I’d like to one day like to workout. I’d like to be adventurous and be a decent tennis player in the future.  I will dislike unavailable men soon. I’d like to be really skinny sometime before I’m dead. Or. I used to very much like my home-made cheese sandwiches. I used to dislike all jokes pertaining to pork or paying for pork or porking for pay.  It’s all wills and dids.  Used tos and would likes. Never dos. Never now.

I live for the time when this moment becomes that moment or will become that moment.

Maybe this isn’t a problem. I’m not sure. I’m not sure how I can change what seems so natural. The present isn’t natural. At least not to me.

For Lamar’s post, see and enjoy.

just over two hours left

before I am no longer a child



I have no memory

besides this moment


an undisclosed amount of time

before I am no longer a child



The past and present go deep

and I do not want to dive in

on the side



a child

SOB with me

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