My dearest darlin,
Please be warned that this post might not be the most positive of my letters to you. This weekend, I called home to allay their fears of my apartmentless situation. Even with my uncle, I know thy won't cease to fuss. So I was talking with my dad about this and that until he drops the news; a close zemed of ours had died. The news? not so shocking. My reaction? Most definitely! You know the me that never cries infront of people? I think my pillows have seen more tears than any human being. Well, when he dropped the bomb, I cried like a child. I really don't know what got into me ... it was bizzare.
So this zemed of mine had diabetes. She's had it for as long as I can remember. I remember us all kids, cousins and yezemed lijoch all congregating at her place on Saturdays. It is one of my most treasured memories from childhood. So it would be me, cousins in MD, and some others from back home ... very young ... saturday late afternoon sessions while our dads drank beer and did their 'ikub' thing. I remember liking her very much because she was always warm and kind to us kids. But I always noticed that she was a shadow of everyone else, by everyone i mean her brothers and sisters. You see, she has this older sister who is much more outgoing ... you know ... what you and I would refer to as 'keltafa'. This one, however nice, was just ... nice and chewa while the other one was exciting, talkative, says what she wants to say to whoever and for us kids she was the cool one.
When my parents were here, they told me that she had taken a turn for the worse. Mitish, I don't know how to explain it but ... beka ... how do you say it? anjete telawese. So I told them that I would buy her a packet of "splenda" for them to take to her. In the end darlin, yesew lij mecheresha ihew newina, I ended up not doing it and they went home empty handed. The part that hurts mitish, is when I proposed to send her the packet, I was sure it wouldn't do her any lasting good. But I wanted her to know she was ... thought of? loved even? And because I have this nonchalance disease deep within me, I neglected to do that one simple thing which would have brought a smile to her face.
Mitiye, a good friend once asked me, while I was going on and on about how awful it is to be UNable to love, "What about not being loved? I hate not being loved". Mitiye, that's exactly what entered my mind when my dad told me the news. I asked him if I should call the older sister and he "I don't think that's necessary. She's not making a big deal of it". Wow. so so cold. Mitiye, Doestovsky? Love? I have a sneaking suspicion her death was caused by diabetes just as much by lack of love. Mitiye, I really do believe that. And it makes it worse doesn't it? Ay darlin, all this to say we shan't forget our lessons on active love, however circumstances might force us to. To love or not to love? There shouldn't even be a choice.
Wedishalew.
Your disconcerted friend.
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