Months ago, I lost someone. His name was almost as unique as he was; Osveli. He was about 5 feet tall, had slicked back hair, an awesome handlebar mustache and spoke Spanish with an undeniably Guatemalan accent. Osveli rode his bike everywhere. He rode it to work, church, dinners and lunches. Normally, I'd treat him like another member of my church but...it was his personality that quickly earned him my respect and admiration. He was undeniably kindhearted and humble. If you were cold, he'd give you his jacket. If you were hungry, he'd go to the nearest food joint and buy you something. If you were broke, he'd pull out what ever money he had in his wallet and give it to you. Whenever we would try to repay the favor though, he'd just tell us to do the same for someone else if we noticed another in need. Needless to say, I was absolutely devastated when he told me he was returning to Guatemala. I couldn't object. I loved him like a brother but...I couldn't ask him to stay in a foreign country with no real family.
A few months went by and I just kinda lost contact with him. I used to call him ever so often but..time passed and the distance got the best of me. Around the time the Spring semester started however, the pastor of my church announced that Osveli had been shot and stabbed to death. Turns out, Osveli was shopping in a small store when some gangsters came in to rob it. He attempted to wrestle a gun away from one of the thieves in order to save a cashier but was unsuccessful and shot in the process. He was then stabbed to death by another gangster.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry. The image of him dying at the hands of someone still haunts me. Here was a man who didn't have an evil thought in his life and...him dying so abruptly..hurts. My not talking to him hangs in my heart. I really would love nothing more then to have a cup of hot chocolate with him.
It's still very much an open wound.
This wouldn't be an easy time for me yet though. I had an aunt named Ana. She was a loud mouth, playful and selfish. If you got the last piece of bread she wanted, you'd know. She'd curse at you but simultaneously make you laugh harder then you've ever laughed in your life. She was the life of which ever party she went to. She was the kind of person that could make you nearly pass out from laughing even if you just saw your dog get hit by a car. She was THAT awesome. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with cancer in her spinal cord and it quickly spread to her entire body. She went from always speaking loudly to barely being able to speak at all. I keep trying to hold on to how she was before the cancer; a mean, loud and hilarious woman but..it's getting harder and harder.
I keep seeing the chemotherapy chipping away little by little at her.
It wasn't until after she died that her daughters revealed in how bad shape she really was. The cancer had not only caused her kidneys to fail but also metastasized in her brain. She held on to her memories and personality but...the pain was relentless. Part of me was happy to hear she passed. She wouldn't be in any pain. My only regret was that I couldn't make the trip to San Francisco to see her before she died. I'll try my hardest to hold on to how she lived before the cancer however. I owe her that. I can't let her memory be eaten away by her disease.
I know this is not the best place to post this. I don't want pity. I just needed to desahogarme. Maybe it will make me feel better, maybe it won't. One person was hard enough but...two is hard. I've never really had to deal with death at all. I've tried to remain optimistic through this but it's getting harder and harder. All of this happening around my finals and birthday certainly aren't helping since I'm starting to find it harder to focus and be happy.
Chappy being there for me has helped me keep myself together much better then I would have been able to alone though. She really is amazing <3
I'm going to end this here since I'm rambling. Sorry for my bucket of emo Codex.
<hugs>