Death Sucks Giant One’s

.                   I had a mom dream a few days ago. I think it was like mom came to me in a dream. ( If that is really even possible, who knows.) In real life I wasn’t there in the hospital when she died, because I’m an ass hole, selfish, and deserve to die for causing my mother emotional pain. In the dream me, My younger sister Sharon, and younger brother David were in the hospital room with mom. All I remember was that mom was laying in bed and drawing on the sheets, a colorful picture. Then the scene changed and all of us were in the lounge area sitting at a table, mom with her oxygen tank. Mom was drawing the same picture that she drew on the sheets of her bed, on a newspaper in just pencil. When she was done, she said to me, ‘I want you to pay attention and remember this picture. I couldn’t make out what it was. Then in the dream, a few hours went by and mom died in her sleep in the hospital bed. Within minutes the nurses changed the sheets and the newspaper mom drew on and told me to remember the picture was gone. I was pissed off at the nurses and asking where they both would be because I couldn’t make out what the picture was and I wanted to see it to try and figure it out. I was bitching at the nurses and running around frantically trying to find the sheet or the newspaper she drew on. That’s when I woke up, my first thought was, WTH was that a picture of? I tried to remember the picture and the only thing I came up with is that it looked like a picture of Jesus and rocks. I still can’t figure out what the picture was of, so I just stick with my first thought when I woke up, a picture of Jesus and rocks. If that’s what it was, WTH was mom trying to tell me? And WTH does a picture of Jesus and rocks mean?

 We, us three kids were raised Catholic, went to CCD, had our first Communion, first confession, and I forgot what the third thing is you do in the church when you are a kid. As adults, none of us practiced religion, mom either. Six years ago I decided to start studying Buddhism, but the Catholic upbringing was and still is, in the back of my mind, like, if you piss God off, he will get you back somehow and something bad will happen to you kind of thing. So, if none of us were really religious, why did mom draw a picture of Jesus and rocks and tell me to pay attention to it? If it wasn’t Jesus and rocks then WTH was it and why can’t I remember it? 

              Death pretty much sucks. It’s so, final. Boom, the end. No more second chances. No more, I’ll be better from now on, etc. Just …….. DONE – The End. When you are young, death seems a bit more shocking it seems. One of your friends die and it’s complete shock, or a relative dies and you feel lost and empty. As you get older, death is still a bit shocking but you start to get used to it in a way. All the cool singers and actors you loved growing up, now are fat and look old, and one by one, they die. It’s like a piece of your younger self has died when you hear about it on the news or social media. The friends you went to school with die, little by little; either from heart attacks, high blood pressure, a drug addiction you never knew of, or by some tragedy. All your family members start to die one by one. First no more grand parents, no more uncle’s or aunts, then mom’s and dad’s, then later your siblings, and best friends. It’s still shocking, but you sort of knew it would come eventually, and eventually comes a lot quicker than you thought it would. 

              Why is it that it takes us until we are older to realize, Holy Crap, I’m older too? It’s only then that we start to get scared that our time is coming faster with each passing day. We finally start to eat healthier, pay attention to sodium and cholesterol, start to become healthier, quit smoking and switch to vaping, and quit drinking, etc. You quit doing drugs and partying years ago because hangovers in your late thirties and forties take three days to get over. I refuse to give up marijuana. I don’t buy any because it’s not legal in my state yet and I don’t even know anyone who still smokes it, and I’m too old to get caught by some undercover cop selling it in front of Cumbys where all the young people hang out. But I still like it, love it actually. I smoked some with the kids, who are not kids anymore but in their 20’s and almost 30’s, they’re still the kids to me. I was stoned off my ass and it was awesome. Nina sent me home with a giant bud, it was like I heard music when she handed me the pill bottle with this huge f’n bud in it. For the next five days, I felt normal again. My state is the only state left in New England where it isn’t legal recreationally yet. Maine, Mass., Vermont all are but New Hampshire isn’t yet. Stupid cow Hampshire! I’ve been waiting for it to be legal again since the 70’s. Watch, it will become legal in New Hampshire finally and I will die the next day. Fuckers! I thought of just driving to one of the other New England states and just saying F it and buy some and come home. But you have to live in and have an ID from the state where you buy it. Nina said she could get me some, I’ll probably take her up on it. 

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