Hurt Me Daddy, for I Have Blogged

27. I didn’t write on the day she died. I didn’t want to. But I’m glad it’s over. I went to her apartment to be with my mom and with the body. I made my mom drink water. It’s over, we said. Somebody will read this story. Maybe nobody will. I’m a Blackstar.

26. It will be over soon. I had such a hard time telling people at first. I thought that we needed to do this in silence. But you were wife and mother and that’s a station that’s barely sung. But the most sacred places from the past were erased by nature. That’s what I hoped this could be. No markers. Just a remembrance of how we all changed. That was the value in it. That is what we will remember. This was about you. It was about all of us, too. No more names. My mother only speaks to you in Romanian now but I speak to you in English. I wonder if you understand any of it, how thin the veil is. I know you are reacting to us. Your eyebrows move, your face changes and your breathing changes when you are in pain. I see fear in them sometimes. A friend tells me that we are your anchor and maybe you don’t want to leave when we are all watching. Ticu did. I know you would want to let mom sleep. I know you would think of that. You sleep so much, too. You are living on drugs now. Just warm ...

25. I wanted to not have to talk about this because I think that people expect grief to vanish into the wind like a will o’ the wisp and I think they don’t expect grief to happen very much before a person dies. I don’t care what other people think, but these are the stupid and painful truths of our society. We try to hide death and I wanted to lay a blanket over the process. We hate process. All we want are results, now. With Ticu there were expectations. A few weeks in the hospital, then this, then this. With you, your body hangs on, stronger than your mind and your voice. I remember all those dark and stubborn moments with you, whereas Gapa was pure sun. I know your life was hard. You were wife and mother and nobody ever speaks of the nobility of that station. You made people. How can this job be forgotten? We tick the time with bodily functions and nurse visits. The clock no longer exists, but it seems to exist more than ever now. We know exactly what to do, but we have no ide...

24. I wanted to avoid having to talk about this because people have relatives die all the time. It feels like I should be going about my life normally. But you were wife and mother and I do think that the praises of this should be sung. My mother keeps telling me how strong your body is, and it’s breaking my heart even more. But you were always stubborn, too.  Part of me wanted this ritual to be silent, no grave marker. It is not an insult, it’s an honor when your rite is among the most sacred sites. We tick the time with bodily functions. We still watch classic movies on TV. We have become a circle now at your bedside. I don’t know why they like to watch the fear-based news, but they do.  You are Doina, but now we remind you of your own name less. I am your granddaughter. This is your daughter. Your other daughter Cristina lives far away. She will call you on the phone. You talk of people who passed years ago. They are people you haven’t talked about in years. Say hello...

23. I want to tell your story now. I want to scream it, scream it from the rooftops. I didn’t want to tell anybody before. Now I want to scream that you are dying. I had a dream of a rat in a cemetery, leading me to a Medieval place. But in the cinematic version of this, they censored the rat. I don’t know why. Are we unable to look death in the face? Is that why I didn’t want to speak anything about this? I want to force them to understand that you were wife and mother, and you had a hard life, and that you could have been a professional, too. Respect this station. We tick the time on the clock and we tick it by your bodily fnctions and nurse’s visits. Your blood pressure is still good. I can see that my mother wants to protect me as if I’m a little girl by not having me there when the nurse is there. As if a parent dying is the child’s private shame. We still watch fear-based news and classic movies in the background but now I am relatively convinced that they are for everyone ...