Missing Family


So my aunt J. is sick.

At first she said via text that she had the flu.  And then I heard via my mother that she has or had pneumonia, where I found out that her kidney(s) are sick too.  It’s serious, and this isn’t new information.  To think that right now she could be dead for all I know, it saddens me.  Renal failure is a quick way to go.

And so today, I made my unprofessional attempt to pray for her.  I tried once or twice before…I’m not someone who does this.  Especially since I know a bit regarding the power of the mind at subconscious will; even little amounts of desire can make things happen.  More people praying does not mean more effect.

She had just entered her sixties and isn’t as in shape as she used to be, so…sickness wasn’t out of the question.  But I had just gotten to know her, with all of the distance I have had with my relatives.  I don’t even have contact with my father, and now…

So to be more accurate, I put my hands together before my bed and I cried for her.  I said, “Please God, don’t take her away from me.”  I know I don’t have much say (or any) on who lives or dies, so I added that I didn’t want her to suffer, regardless.  “I don’t want anyone to suffer.”  Something that just made me cry harder.

I feel like crying as I type this.  Because as much as I want a family, I also don’t any cruelty towards another human being.  As flawed as J. is, I don’t want her to go.  She may not share the same interests as I do, but I don’t want her to go.  We may not share the same bloodlines as my mother was adopted into the family as my aunt’s sister, but I don’t want her to go.  Maybe it’s unconditional love, but with my character in practice, probably not.

I may not be the best person on the planet, and I may be used to things just happening beyond my control, but this… No.  And so I try, despite distance in all things, to get the message out there, knowing that I still probably won’t be heard.

She may think that she doesn’t have that many people left in her life, but neither do I.  So I need her.  But I need her much as I need anybody or any family, so unfortunately, my selflessness is probably drowned out by my selfishness.  But I worry, and I cry, and I make my incorrect prayers in the hopes that this life will carry the love I so desperately need.  Please, God, don’t take her away from me.

She isn’t the only one; there are plenty of ill people out there that I’ve thought of.  I’ve joined in in the past when it comes to praying, as suggested by people over the radio, over the television.  To think: if I was religious I would likely be better off.  Too bad the closest church is five or so miles away (and I can’t drive).

I’ve even thought of a few bloggers that have disappeared (but have since returned; hiatus without warning).  Part of this is, yes, because I’m alone and would talk to them all day long if I could, but part of it is I genuinely do care.  There may be loads of disconnect, but I love to share the life.

I may not be comfortable in all things, but deep down, I do love.  And there, it pains me to see people go.  They may not be gone from existence in passing, but I think of it in terms of not being able to give my love, my inability to spread my warmth.  To think: if that last time I hugged J. the time she visited in late summer was the last.  Or attempted to, because, well I’m not used to hugging.

It makes me cry harder thinking about my inability to love others than they of me.  So maybe I’m not the most selfish man in the world.  Just maybe.
This post was only minimally edited to show the dribbling, barely-articulate mess I actually am, sometimes.


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