Go Team Coldcuts!

It was the Spring of 84, I sat on the couch enjoying my usual 5:30am Looney Tunes session, munching on a bowl of apple jacks. It was a Wednesday. In a family of ten, it was the only time I could call the shots on the television. My Aunt Evangelina, fifteen years mom's elder, occasionally joined me on the couch trying to comprehend the color coated fiesta of pictures on the television.

This specific day, she collapsed to the floor and began to heave. I was flabbergasted. Mom and dad had already left to the flea market. Laurie, my middle sister, had abruptly moved out. My brothers were snoozing down stairs. Except for Neil and I, the rest of the family were Asthma prone. I fumbled around and handed her the spray, that usually does the trick, but this time it was different. She began to foam at the mouth and her sense of breathing was a struggle. Her hands began to tighten and stiffen.

I began to weep as I placed her head in my lap, the seconds ticked as I struggled to compromise time. I couldn't leave her like this, it could be the last time. I was frightened and hysterical. Her eyes full of water, and that sparkle in her eyes was fading. I quickly ran downstairs and woke Dave and Neil. Raving in complete idiotic mumbling gibberish, I couldn't get the words to escape my lips! Tears overflowed, but did not beckon the situation. They quickly ran to her side as I watched from the sidelines her chances of life seem dire. Neil dialed 911, but by the time the ambulance arrived Aunt Evangelina was gone. She lay in the middle of the living room where thirty minutes ago she sat next to me with her arm around me trying to understand why I found that rascally rabbit whose usual response was, "what's up doc?" so funny.

Shellie's Proverb: Friend and foe, never trust the hands of time.
During my Hawaii vacation, a very dear friend was rushed to the hospital and went under for two brain surgeries within 48 hours. As Shane shared the news, my entire body and soul became feeble. The gloom of severity was splashed across my sparkling canvas. Suddenly, the concept of a higher power God, Jesus and his posse of Saints, Allah, Spiritual Guides please, can I get your attention? Detour. Make haste. How quickly I have gone from atheist to religious fanatic. Bargaining with the gods, promising I'll go to mass, light a candle, stand on my head anything. Frankly, I could care less, it was more important for Jonny to fight through this; to heal.

As I meditatively floated in the warm ocean for endless hours, my thoughts and prayers were focused towards his recovery. Everynight before bed, Shane and I prayed together that the free spirit, moreover big jokester would recover. It is in difficult times like these where the tiniest gestures of goodness are transcendent. No matter how many times I've experienced other's suffering, I never get used to it.
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I had the pleasure of witnessing the miracle last night. As with the others that were present, his eyes were open and he waved when he saw both Shane and me. I was overwhelmed and honestly, I felt special that he was coherent and strong.

Life is fragile. You never know when it gives and takes. Mostly, I take a lot for granted like breathing and having the normal movements of my voluntary and involuntary body parts. The next time you see a friend or family member, give them a hug and well wishes for there might not be a next time. In my hearts of hearts, she knows that I love her, yet I regret never expressing it to Aunt Evangelina during her time with me.

Shane and I send all of our wishes, prayers, hopes, thoughts to Jonny for a positively strong recovery. Always know that you are well loved by many who have traveled near and far.

Lesson: A wise grasshopper must repeatedly give of oneself to achieve enlightenment.