She is sick. She might die. Her daughter is sick. She might die. Death is descending. Will he take the life of one that has done nothing wrong in this world? Will he take the life of one that has not even lived in this world yet? Will he take the life of one that has never tasted the yucky taste of medicine, or the exhilaration of going higher and higher on the swing? Will he take the life of one that has not lived, has not even begun to life? Will Death take one that is only a baby, not ready for this world? Will Death take one that is not even done preparing itself for this world? Death is ascending; I don’t know how to feel.

They tell me what is happening, and I just stare, blankly, not knowing what to say, do, feel. I can’t nod, I can’t cry, I can’t say ok, because there’s nothing to say. No words can express what needs to be said, what should be said. No words can express this level of worry, astonishment, sadness, and just plain confusion. It’s numb. It doesn’t penetrate the surface, it can’t; I won’t let it. I’m numb, not being able to think of a world without them.

But I must say something, I must feel something, I must give some recognition of my emotion; otherwise I will look heartless, with no emotions or feelings of what is about to happen. But that’s not me. I will not let people see me break down and cry for others. I will not let people see me cry out of worry, or sadness. Because then I am weak. Because then I’m not all that strong, and put together. I will not let people see me cry for them, until they are gone; because then they cannot see me crying. It is silly, and vain in ways, but it is true. It is my fault, my glitch.
In ways it is heartless, but I am only human. I am not perfect, I never will be. I will not let them see me cry for them, I will pretend everything is fine, when it is not. I am like that; it is my way of dealing with hardships, and I’m sorry for it. I may seem heartless, vain, and mean. I may seem like I don’t care, and just want to get on with life. But I do care. Obsessing over other things or events is my way of dealing with it, its my way of coping with the heartbreaking sadness. It’s my way of feeling in control in a time when I have no control. I do care, I care with all my heart, but I can’t show it. So when you see me turning away, walking away or looking into the distance with a stony expression that seems to say “I don’t care” please know I do, know that I turn away so you won’t see me break down, know that when I turn away I’m breaking down inside, but just don’t know how to show it.

Death is Descending; I don’t know what to do.