Dandelions For Ariya

Another loss. It's hard to explain, it just feels like an empty pit in my stomach where a smile once so easily crossed my lips. A lady I once called “Babushka” was laid to rest after struggling with a brain tumor. She taught me so much about myself while I struggled to teach her to stand & dress again after a fracture years ago. It was laughable at first. She knew no English & I, no Russian. We soon became friends among our sessions & she returned home before becoming a resident later in our facility. She kept a picture of Us on her desk & would tell passerbys I was her “beautifah granddaughtah”. It seems she adopted me. Her thick white hair, jolly demeanor, round body & …embracing me as I knelt beside her wheelchair. These losses always bring me back to the same place. I wonder if it's “trauma” or PTSD... The same flashback. Puking in the toilet with my older sister opening the door... then i’m at a podium standing to address the people at the wake of my dear boyfriend. Readying myself to speak to a room of what seems like hundreds of teary eyes. Then I'm slowly walking towards Fredy's casket. Terrified. Shaking. Not knowing My life will never be the same again after what I'm about to see. I guess that memory is the lone survivor that even copeous doses of antipsychotics couldn't eradicate. I try to remember that I'm lucky. That the Love I have for others is like a small but mighty dandelion… a weed that refuses to stop struggling through the concrete that is continually put down on it. Once more. Yet again, my Love sneaks out, wanting to brighten someone's day again. Desiring only to help in times of need. Refusing to be squashed by another ignorant boot print. I'm still struggling to decide if my Too Large heart is a curse or a blessing. Goodbye, Ariya, I Love you.