Grandpa

I’m a very lucky person. I’ve never had to deal with the death of someone. When the day to face the death of someone I know comes, I just don’t know how I’ll react.

My grandpa had a stroke yesterday. I didn’t knew that information until today, when I was on my way to visit him in the hospital.

I’ve never been prepared on how to deal with the death of someone close, and yet I think (I’m almost absolutely sure) I know how I will deal with it, when the time comes. I suspect I won’t cry, won’t shout, but I’ll be torn inside, I won’t know how to deal with it, so I’ll just suppress it.

He had a stroke ten years ago, and he recovered. Looking back, I can almost go back in time ten years. I don’t think anyone in the family experienced the same feelings today as they did ten years ago, and yet what happened was almost identical.

I’m not very good in externalizing my feelings. In fact, I’m awful when it comes to feelings. So I just suppress them, it’s very hard to look at me and see if I’m extremely sad, or extremely happy.

Anyone, but me. I’m not saying that anyone stopped loving grandpa, or that they are more prepared if he leaves us now that they wore back then. It’s not that. It’s just that they all had different reactions now, different from the ones they had back then. In fact, this time the majority is far more optimistic than they wore ten years ago.

I’m not good in having senses. I don’t have “good feelings” or a six sense that tells me everything is going to be alright. On the other hand I’m not pessimistic, in fact if I had to classify myself I would do so by placing myself in the optimist group.

My feeling this time was exactly the same as it was ten years ago. (And it’s curious I’m able to describe it so well... me that can’t even point into a specific spot when the doctor asks: where does it hurt?) It felt (it still feels) like a thousand hands squishing all my organs, all my veins, all my muscles, everything inside my body felt (still feels) like it was being squished with the strength of a thousand hands.

I’m that guy that can’t stay a day without making a joke. I need to see people around me smiling. I’m not a clown, or at least, I don’t intend to be a clown, but if I find the opportunity to make a joke that I know will make someone laugh, then I’ll make the joke.

Today I found myself making jokes to my cousins in the waiting room of the hospital. I desperately needed to see someone smile. I needed to feel that there was hope, even if it was a very “tiny piece” of hope. I needed to feel it.

What will I be like if I experience the death of someone close to me? Every time something bad happened to someone that is close to me (the stroke of my grandpa, when my sister was run over by a car, when my aunt had a beginning of cancer) I’ve always felt the same thing: This squishing inside, this unbearable weight on top of every organ inside of my body. This anguish that removes my usual optimism.

Today I felt the hope I needed to feel when I saw my grandpa smiling. When I saw his face illuminated by a big smile. It felt as all those stupid thoughts that I had in my head wore taken away, all at the same time, and all just by a smile.

So today I’ll go to sleep with just two things on my mind. The first one is my grandpa’s smile. The second is the fear of losing that smile.

I need your smile. I need you.

Just a little text

I’ve been struggling to not write in my blog!!!
So I’m using my sister’s computer.
I want to write about so many things… but I guess I’ll end up just writing about how happy I feel.
I’ve ended the first part of my masters and my Italian classes are also going extremely well…
I’m even finding friends in the most improbable and unexpected places… really!!!
Hum…. Not a very long text…but without computer it’s hard!!