Memo’s Dad

This morning one of my best friends was confronted with the brutal reality that our world is not always kind. Heyzen called us at around 7:30pm with the news: Memo’s dad past away. He had an accident at work. Even as I sit here typing this, I feel like crying. More like I am crying. I already cried with Juan. I cried with Memo. I cried with Alex. I cried with Heyzen. I cried with Juan once again. And now I cry with my lj. I cry for the loneliness, for Memo, for his mom, his family, for not being able to be there with him, for my family, and my father. For the feeling of uselessness. What can someone say to you when someone you love like no other is taken away from you without a warning? Is there anything you can say?

We’re not going home for Spring Break. We made that decision before finding out. We haven’t changed our minds. What would we solve by changing our minds now? How would we better his situation by going home and seeing him? Would it help anymore than talking on the phone or AIM?

God I feel so petty. I feel guilty for so many things. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. I feel guilty for not being able to be there with him, for never knowing his father (despite the many years we have known each other – this is one guilt that I feel I should own), for still having a father of my own. . . . I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m so sorry memo . . . .

May your father rest in peace.

suite_pee says:

March 10, 2002 at 4:41 am

I love you

I feel helpless too. I felt so uncomfortable being at his house. It was like, I’m not important enough to be there. I felt that way, he was really sweet to us. We made him laugh a little. I’m so glad that I have internet access at home now, I don’t think I could’ve lasted until Monday to write about this. Take Anitza. Good luck on finals to you, Juan and Shalea.

anitza says:

March 10, 2002 at 3:09 pm

Re: I love you

Thanks.

Anonymous says:

April 15, 2002 at 11:21 am

Thank you guys.

Alex and Anitza, thank you for the warm thoughts about being my good friends. I’m still going through the pains. I can’t get away from it, though I wish I could. I’m going to Philly the weekend before your graduation, Anitza. My friend wants me to clear my head by getting away from everything and everyone. If I could give anything to go back and keep my dad from going to work, I would. I would give my own life. But I can’t. No matter what I say, no matter what I do, I feel helpless. I feel helpless because I can’t take away this pain, nor my family’s. I understand why you didn’t come for Spring Break, Anitza. I wouldn’t know how it would have helped either. Though it would have been nice. I’m not holding it against you. Don’t worry. The most touching thing about all the people that came by when they found out was Heyzen and his parents. When they came to the wake, Heyzen, obviously, was crying as much as I was. He knew my dad as well as I did. When his parents came up to me, they were both crying as much as I was. But it helps to know how many people cared that much. We had almost 50 cars come to the funeral. I never realized how many people cared about my dad and us. I miss him.

— Memo.