say your goodbyes, hold on to the memories

I don’t pretend to have the answer to this.
What do you do when there’s nothing else to do? What do you do when all hope is gone and only a machine is keeping them alive? I find myself irremediably torn between the impossibility of letting them go, and the unbearable sadness of seeing them suffer. If on the one hand I love them too much to see them suffer, and wish they weren’t in pain anymore, on the other hand I just can’t let go. I just can’t. In both occasions, it wasn’t my call. What would I have done, had I been a mother? A sister? A wife?
A few days ago, after visiting him again in the hospital, I wrote this:

~the deepest cut is the desperate cry for help in the eyes of a friend, the request you cannot honor, that leaves you powerless in the wake of an unavoidable tragedy~

I have seen this before, and it’s still perfectly clear in my memory. The evil that gnaws away at them, little by little, eating away the hope as well. It’s tragic in any situation, but when it touches you, when it hits home, and when it affects people who have barely entered their twenties, well, it’s just plain cruel. Very selfishly, I know, I say that it is cruel. But I have no other way to say it. It’s plain and simply unfair.
And who do you blame? What do you do? How do you cope? I have seen people smile, people laugh, people pray. I sat there. Frozen. I can’t smile. Let alone laugh. I really don’t know how to pray. And even though at times casting blame is a way to overcome grief, what can you blame in this case? Or who? Whose fault is this?
So, unable to do anything else, I just sat there. And I remembered.

Remembered two people who had their entire lives in front of them. Both very smart, bright young men, strong, healthy, generous, loving. I remembered their strength, their determination in the face of the greatest obstacles, their willingness never to give up, their wonderful smiles, the ability to joke, laugh and have fun even when they would have had every right to be bitter, every right to complain, to be spiteful.

In my memories, I held their hands, heard their voices, looked into their eyes, laughed with them. I remembered their legacy: their strength. The compassion. The faith. The love for life. No matter what.

When you have a problem that seems insurmountable, when you feel like the world is falling apart, that everything is crumbling down around you, and you find no way out, please take a moment and think about them. Think about those two young men. And feel blessed – if anything, because you are still here, healthy and alive, with the possibility to do all you desire. With friends who care about you, who are there for you.

I’m here for you.