randomscribbles

one ordinary saturday night in boston, december 12, 2003, around 11pm, 307 beacon street apartment 4. a few bottles of wine, a stack of playing cards, instructions written on pieces of torn papers, five extremely bored people with nothing else better to do. a knock at the door from the neighbor downstairs at five in the morning. did you see cnn? saddam hussein was finally captured. by the way, please keep your noise down, i can't sleep. the first in a series of increasingly crazy dare games that resulted in an increasingly complicated dark comedy of six people tangled in a weird quagmire. east coast, west coast, jakarta, bali. how do you stop the itty bitty flake into becoming this huge snowball that continued to spin out of control until eighteen months later? the curse of time, the cosmic karma, what can you say, it's just life.

Posted by d at 07:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

"I froze before the keyboard. I couldn't think of a damn thing to say. No poems, no prose, no words. The pain cannot even be alchemized into art, into words, into something you can chalk up to an interesting experience because the pain itself, its intensity, is so great that it has woven itself into your system so deeply that there is no way to objectify it or push it outside or find its beauty within."
-Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

Posted by d at 11:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

an sms at 6 o'clock in the morning woke me up. it was my sister. "dad has gone with jesus, june 2nd at 10:35am hawaii time." for a while i couldn't feel anything. i was numb. i was just hoping it was painless. dad has been in and out of the hospital for the past 4-5 weeks with his heart and kidney condition. finally, per his own & the family's request, the medication was taken off on thursday. about 24 hours later, he passed away in a morphine-induced sleep.

papa, i'm so sorry i didn't show you enough that i loved you. i'm sorry i didn't make enough time to be with you. i'm sorry i didn't always give you my best. i'm sorry if at times i didn't seem grateful for all you had given me. for all your love.

i hope somehow you understood all the things left unsaid. how thankful i've always been to have a father like you. how much you've meant to me. how much i've always admired your resolution, your dedication to your children. everything we could never repay.

papa, i wish i could be there with you in your last few days, holding your hand and telling you that your life had meant all the world for those who knew and loved you. that you've fulfilled all your purposes. that all your children love you and are very proud of you. that there was no reason to be afraid or sorry. that it merely was the time for you to rest with our father in heaven. no more worries, no more pain, no more sickness, no more tears.

Somewhere beyond the blue there’s a mansion for me Somewhere beyond the blue I’m longing to be I’ll see my Savior’s Face and sing forever more Somewhere beyond the blue someday (an old gospel sang by mom to him in his last hours at the hospital. dad tried to sing along with a smile)

until we meet again, papa. someday.

Posted by d at 10:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)