For this assignment, I was required to write about an event that I have experienced where death occurs, no matter how large or small. To reflect on the happiest or saddest memories and then take the reader to that specific place and time by describing my experience using specific details. Trace this relationship as far as my memory allows to make the necessary connections for the readers about how important this event was and to reflect on how this loss shapes my day, what it says about my identity, and how it might have influenced or changed me.
Diego Ordonez
Matenko
Killer Stories
7 September 2022
Purpose.
I arose from the gray lounge chair that was oddly placed parallel to the main window; “seems out of place” I thought with the walls of the room being a nice beige accompanied by matching carpet flooring; although I can say it was very pleasant and comfortable to sit in. I stood up straight as my aunt started by saying “Our father”. I never really understood the point of this and why I had to be involved, I felt uncomfortable and out of place. Not only that but the windows weren’t open and it was starting to get hot and my sky-colored jeans and black tee shirt were not complimenting the temperature of the room. I couldn’t focus, all I could do was look around at all the familiar faces filled with sadness and sorrow. My mom standing to my right unsteady as one would be; her eyes dried up from all the tears conceived by the sudden news.
It was this morning when I was awoken by the sound of my mom screaming and crying. I walked towards her room; I hesitated as I was afraid of what might have possibly occurred for her to react like this. I opened her door and asked her what was wrong but she had her phone on her ear seemingly on a phone call, I tried making sense of the conversation between my mom and the person on the other end. Her right hand holding the phone was shaking, unable to halt as if her hand had been submerged in ice cold water for several hours.“How did it happen?!” my mom asked with tears flowing down her face reaching the end of her chin and inevitably falling off and splashing on her bed sheets. “ Did the guy not see him!” screamed my mom, her screams were like a thunderclap powerful, enough to shatter a lightbulb, or a vase but loud enough to be heard by our downstairs neighbors. At this point, I was extremely worried after realizing that the news had to be about a close family member or friend. I examined her room; it was weird seeing it disorganized and messy since the first thing she does after waking up is make her bed, fixing her bed sheets the color of charcoal and her navy blue encased pillows. The curtains across the bed were still shut making the room very dim; the sunlight desired to engulf the room as it struggled to pass through the thick and soft curtains. The room gloomy and bleak it was.” HOW COULD SOMEBODY HAVE THE HEART TO RUN AFTER HITTING MY BROTHER AND LEAVE HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!” cried my mom. It was my uncle Lucio who had been tragically killed in a hit-and-run.
“Glory be” continued, my uncle. My uncle Lucio was a very respected and well-loved person both by his siblings and by his neighbors. It hit all my aunts and uncles hard after hearing the news. I had never seen any of my aunts and uncles shed a single tear until this evening when my mom and I arrived at my aunt’s house as they were. We entered the living room full of complete grief and misery. I had greeted every single person present; the unspoken requirement when arriving at a Hispanic gathering. Tears were being wiped all across the room, heads down as nobody wants to be seen weeping, and hearts trying their very best to survive the strong waves of emotion. I sat down as el Rosario was about to start. I stared at the clock hanging high on the wall as it hit 8 pm. Everyone gathered around the room since we were about to commence the rosary prayers and so I arose from a gray lounge chair I was sitting on.
“Hail Mary” began my cousin. I shouldn’t be here, what am I providing that makes my presence meaningful when I don’t feel any type of way about my uncle’s death due to lack of connection? Am I messed up for thinking like this and am I the only one in this room who is having these crooked thoughts? My uncle Lucio was one of the only ones who didn’t decide to immigrate to the U.S and because of this me and the majority of my cousins born here in America had never met him. Why do I yearn for a reason to belong; I shouldn’t want to feel the sorrow and sadness that my family members are experiencing right now. I shouldn’t be wishing that I had known my uncle and that I had a strong bond with him just to erase this feeling of being misplaced. I feel like an imposter, a fraud among my mom and her siblings but the same question keeps on appearing in my mind, “my family knowing that I had never met my uncle invited me to participate in the rosary prayers but WHY?”. “Am I thinking too hard?” I asked myself as I sensed my feet getting heavier and heavier as if someone was pouring cement inside my shoes. I felt as if my consciousness and I were in a ring together battling it out, and I was losing. Every self-doubt I had was an open opportunity for my opponent to land a clean jab. My mind is beginning to feel a little clouded. “Estes bien? (Are you okay?),” whispered my mom in a soft tone and pulled me back into the real world. “Yeah I think I’m just thirsty,” I replied. “Hurry and go ask your aunt for some water it’s almost your turn” she replied.
“The fifth mystery” I heard from afar as I was stepping foot inside the white tiled kitchen. I opened the cupboard and reached for the bottom shelf where all the cups should be as described by my aunt. I poured myself a glass of water and as I brought it up to drink I looked at my reflection off the cup. I thought about how my mom had checked up on me after noticing I was completely unfocused from the prayers. I thought about all the times she checks up on me no matter what to make sure I’m okay. Even if she might not understand what I go through sometimes she always makes sure to make sure I’m feeling good. I rinsed the cup and headed back to the living room, everyone was in a circle like that of a rosary. I finally realized. All my aunts, uncles, and cousins are here to provide comfort to each other including me. Being around family and friends provides comfort, even if I feel out of place in this room my presence is making my family members dealing with the loss of my uncle Lucio a little easier. I walk back to my place in the circle as my mom hands me the rosary. “Are you ready?” asks my mom, I nod and begin reciting the hail holy queen which is the last prayer involved in the rosary prayers.
