I don't know you, but I love you

lying in bed, thinking that I shook someone's hand today who was dying, who probably won't survive the summer possibly won't survive the end of this week, I'm seeing everything in a whole different perspective, more so than ever.

I love you. Who ever you are. I love you

Flow My Tears

Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn;
Where night's black bird her sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorn.
Down vain lights, shine you no more!
No nights are dark enough for those
That in despair their lost fortunes deplore.
Light doth but shame disclose.
Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pity is fled;
And tears and sighs and groans my weary days
Of all joys have deprived.
From the highest spire of contentment
My fortune is thrown;
And fear and grief and pain for my deserts
Are my hopes, since hope is gone.
Hark! you shadows that in darkness dwell,
Learn to contemn light
Happy, happy they that in hell
Feel not the world's despite.

Death

... isn't much different from Living

...

it's been quite a while... here are a few thoughts.

I've been neglecting my diary lately, many things have happened...

As of December I have graduated my mortuary science program, alas it is time to gear up and find a funeral home in which to do my residency, the last step in order to become a funeral director.

Also recently I have experienced first hand the loss of a friend. Many emotions run through your heart and soul, many confused and some times irrational feelings take over, you just go with the punches I guess... When you first receive the news of the death, it's total shock and a bit of denial, followed by total sadness, mixed with stupor, refusal and anger, then total melancholy alternates with a very strange euphoria... and so you grieve and mourn, and the days go by. The interesting factor is that mourning is a very selfish act, depending on what you believe, when somebody dies, I am of the opinion that the spirit goes on, it is at rest, it has found it's repose. On the other hand we are left with a void that one rarely figures out how to fill back up, no matter what, you are going to stumble upon memories and the wound inadvertently opens up again. Constantly. My dear friend is in my heart now, that's the only place I can cherish his memory.

Such knowledge can only help to improve ourselves.

Having experienced this only makes me even more eager to start working in a funeral home.

This is my calling.

Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

the tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra

She shall be buried by her Antony;
No grave upon the earth shall clip in it
A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them; and their story is
No less in pity than his glory which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall
In solemn show attend this funeral,
And then to Rome.

is Death the last sleep?

No - it is the last and final awakening.

I just got a chill...

nightmares at the morgue

the start of my third semester of school coincided with the "hands on" embalming classes at the Bellevue city morgue.

an overwhelming sadness takes over me every monday when I have to go to morgue, apart from the fact of never knowing what to expect the contents of the body bag to be, it just breaks my heart to see how many people die in complete solitude, forgotten by their loved ones, if they even had any.

mostly homeless people and old folks from nursing homes end up on our embalming tables...

who knows what amazing things they must have done in their lifetime, I like to fantasize and imagine what remarkable deeds they accomplished, maybe they were so phenomenal that they gave up all earthly possessions and served others, or maybe travelled to far away lands, fought for something they believed in, lost everything and chose to live in complete secrecy in New York so to protect the people they love... creating individual stories for each deceased person helps me cope with the fact that at the end of the day they died alone, no one came to claim them, their committal service is said by one of us after we all practiced our incisions, sutures, injecting and aspirating on them. God bless them.

needless to say, seeing all this death takes some getting used to... I haven't slept all that well lately

grieving when there hasn't been a death

so many factors can prepare you to the ultimate loss of the privation of life caused by death.

recently a dear friend of mine moved away, the feelings of loss are very similar to those one would feel if in mourning, for the exception I can call her any time I want to hear her voice and similar things... but I have had to adjust to her not being around, it's madding how much I miss her, it's like a little part of me died, and the new part isn't quite ready, nor is it even there for that matter

and thoughts like "what happens when I can't call the person I love and care about? what happens when there is nothing left but a fading memory?" arise and keep me awake at night

I'm not at all concerned with my own death, but that of others I care about, what then?

I guess I should not be distressed by these reflections until the time comes, but none the less... I can't get rid of this sad core that's overshadowing my mind lately

a man is not completely born until he is dead

today I had a lot on my mind, and these are a few of my thoughts:

1. thinking about death prompts questions and brings about the thought and effort necessary to acquire an understanding of it. We do not fear what we understand.

2. thinking about it and about it's inevitability and unpredictability makes us more aware of life, more tuned in and more appreciative of each moment and aspect of life.

3. Thinking about it and about the eternity that follows makes the worries and trials of this short earth-life seem smaller and easier to bear; thus it becomes easier to live with the problems and difficulties of daily life.

and this Shakespeare quotation comes in handy:

Be absolute for death; either death or life
Shall thereby be the sweeter.

act III, scene I, Measure for Measure

Death according to Monty Python

Yoda on Death

“Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not. Attachment leads to jealously. The shadow of greed, that is.”

“Soon will I rest, yes, forever sleep. Earned it I have. Twilight is upon me, soon night must fall.”

Death

Death is a process and not a moment in time. During the process there is a series of physical and chemical changes, starting before the medicolegal time of death and continuing afterward. In the sequence of death there is a point of irreversibility that can generally be diagnosed by physicians. When this point is reached nothing more can be done to restore intelligent life.

William and Emily

THERE is something about Death
Like love itself!
If with some one with whom you have known passion,
And the glow of youthful love,
You also, after years of life
Together, feel the sinking of the fire,
And thus fade away together,
Gradually, faintly, delicately,
As it were in each other’s arms,
Passing from the familiar room—
That is a power of unison between souls
Like love itself!

Edgar Lee Masters (1868–1950). Spoon River Anthology. 1916.

And Death Shall Have no Dominion

And death shall have no dominion
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone
They shall have stars at elbow and foot
Though they go mad they shall be sane
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again
Though lovers be lost love shall not
And death shall have no dominion.

I am Death

Like the gravedigger in “Hamlet”, the Squire treats death as a bitter and hopeless joke. Since we all play chess with death, and since we all must suffer through that hopeless joke, the only question about the game is how long it will last and how well we will play it. To play it well, to live, is to love

have faith

I didn't get to say goodbye

Nonna and Nonno

last sunday my surrogate grandmother died, I love her and miss her so much...

this is what my mother wrote about Nonna and Nonno:

In all the years we have been in Vicenza, we have been friends with our old neighbors Toni and Amelia. They became adoptive grandparents to Arthur and Daniela and good helpful friends to all of us. Toni came and helped us in the yard for many years. He thought nothing of climbing up a towering cyprus tree and cutting off the top at 80 years old. Finally he stopped riding his moto so we he didn't come anymore. We always went to visit them and took all of our visitors to meet them. They welcomed whoever showed up at their door no matter what time of the day it was. Toni talked and told stories even if it was in a different language, and Amelia had such a sense of humor she could make people laugh in any language. Toni died in May 2006, with his boots on working in the yard. Amelia lasted a year and a half without him, although she would say "non c'e niente senza Toni, tutto e` cambiato": without Toni there is nothing everything has changed. She had a very good Romanian woman taking care of her, who probably kept her alive that long. She had heart disease which worsened with time and quietly took her home on the 5th of January. She asked Art if he would take her on a cruise a few hours before she died. I went there 2 or 3 times a week for all the time we were here. Amelia was a true friend, and I loved her as did any of you who were able to meet her and laugh with her and look into those wonderful eyes.

A chapter has closed for us but not only....that generation who lived through 2 wars, suffered from hunger and didn't really get indoor plumbing and electricity until 30-40 years ago, is disappearing from Italy. They were the backbone of Italy, living simply, gathering food from the fields and forest, cooking meals to die for in simple kitchens without a lot of equipment, raising animals that they ate--meat with no drugs and creepy additives, not consuming because they remembered how it was to live without and what it was like to carry water up the hill each day from a communal spring in the valley. They said that was the good life in which people were happy and willing to share what little they had. As they disappear from the countryside, I hope Italy manages to hold onto what makes it a charming and wonderful country to visit and live in.

FUNeral