Recently my Uncle passed away. He was in his early 60's. He had a stroke and then took 5 days to pass away. There was nothing that the doctors could do for him as his body was riddled with blood clots. I think about him a lot and I am having the most profound thoughts. My emotions are numb and I cannot seem to focus on anything. I am writing this because the funeral is tomorrow and I have no words to describe my sadness. I have not been able to express how I feel.
My Uncle was one of the nicest people I have ever met and I have found myself spending many moments thinking how lucky my cousins where to have him for a father. He was or I should say is a great father and a wonderful grandfather. He was so proud of his children and his grandchildren. My Uncle was divorced, so that means he may not have been such a good husband. However, nobody is perfect and relationships of the romantic kind require skill, depth and stamina. Despite this my Uncle never failed to amaze me. I loved his kindness and his gentleness and I admired his courage.
I have a fabulous photograph of my Uncle with a couple of his brothers and some of his cousins. It was taken in the 1950's and all of the young men looked like James Dean. I laughed when I unearthed this treasured photograph from one of my mothers boxes of trinkets. They all looked like rebels. In my excitement I showed the photograph to my Uncle. He didn't smile. He looked at it with sadness in his eyes and he pointed out the ones that were alive. There were only two. The rest had passed away. The sadness I felt at that moment is indescribable. And it brought home the awareness of the Aboriginal statistics of early deaths of our men. The statistics put out by the ABS state that 75% of Aboriginal men die before the age of 65. My Uncle is a statistic.
I think about this statistic and it makes me wonder when there will just be me. You see I have three brothers and one has already passed away at the age of 48. He too is a statistic. I don't like the statistic but I do not know what to do about it.
I think about 'bridging the gap'? What is that? What does it mean? How will it help? I am confused because the reality is more and more men I know are passing away at an early age, so unless we 'bridge the gap' now we won't be able to save the lives of those we love.
In aboriginal culture there is a belief that goes something like this: 'if we don't take care of the land then the land will not take care of us'. I think about this and I wonder if this is the reason why our men are dying young? It is complex, this thought.
I have no answers and my heart bleeds from loss. I am in pain and I feel numb. I have no words to express the way that I feel, except to say 'how unfair'.
Words fumble from my mouth, dissolving in mid air. I have tried to put together a remembrance of a man whom I loved, yet my words do not do justice to who he was.
I have no words............ someone said that you cannot share grief?
Life is good but sometimes you have to live moments alone!
I think your words are perfect. I get a sense of what you are going through because death affects us all, so you are alone, yes, but not really.
ReplyDeleteI think you are right about the land and us, because this affects wadjelas too, though most have no idea about that. It IS complex, and sad and so hard to understand.
'Closing the gap' - yeah, what DOES that mean? Maybe just words..... working with Aboriginal peole I am witness so often to families and friends grappling with these early deaths. I think they have a right to feel cheated somehow. I talk to my Aboriginal students about their diet and lifestyle, but really, how do you build a sense of self worth so that they are willing to look after themselves, and secondly, it's cheaper and easier NOT to look after your health. And this is not restricted to Aboriginal people of course.
In the end 'loss of soul' probably is the biggest killer. We ALL need healing, with the earth, to heal ourselves. In the end I guess you can only be a light for others....and I think you are that. XX
Thanks MF. Actually I found solace. After the funeral yesterday I spent the entire day and most of the night drinking with my cousins. We shared our memories and we sang and we laughed and we cried. It was fantastic.
ReplyDeleteIn the words of one of my beautiful cousins 'Picketts Rock'....lol
Life is good.