Escape Characters

Exposure

I had a relative pass away shortly before Thanksgiving this year. This after my remaining maternal grandfather in March, and my paternal grandfather more than a year ago now. This last weekend I went down to Arizona to spend time with family and offer what support I could.

I'm not going to say that I mourn well. I miss my loved ones, as they were part of my life, and that is hard to let go. I try to remember them for who they were, what they meant to me, and what I learned from them. It is difficult to do this for the fact that a person's influence on you is subtle, and finding where you end and they begin is like finding the edge on packaging tape, the clear-on-clear edge, peeling slowly away to the center. I do this to maintain their memory, not to excise myself from it, serving instead to mark their influences in their name, rather than letting it be just another memory without citation. It takes a while to do this. When I do, they become finite and incorruptible. I can then look and say, "This is what they were to you." I can only hope I do them justice in being their curator and keeper.

I will say that the worst part of a death is seeing how everyone else is affected by it. Seeing people affected by things they can't help but feel. And seeing the worst in people as their defense to what they cannot control. Feeling helpless towards a disease or time is one thing: we can accept inevitability, fight it admirably, surrender graciously. But feeling helpless towards another person while they're sitting quietly in front of you, or yelling in the next room, leaves an empty surreality I can't understand, nor aim to quell.

On Thanksgiving, a few days after we all heard the news, I was asked to take pictures. Specifically, a lot of pictures, in order to document the occasion and those attending. This is because not only did we have new family members attending, but also those advanced in age. I normally take a lot of pictures, annoyingly so, in fact. This time I did not. Instead, I only took a few. I made sure I had one good shot of everyone: smiling, in focus, not in between facial expressions or words, not dim or overexposed. And after that, I stopped. When we were all getting ready to leave, I was making my way around the room to say goodbye. Talking briefly with one of my older, distant relatives, she told me, "It's been a real pleasure watching you grow up." I said, "Thank you," but I really had no idea what to say in response.