June 25th, 2009 marked a surreal and numb day for the young and old who were touched by the brilliance of the King of Music. With no indication from his family or friends that Michael was suffering from any health issues, news of Michael Jackson's abrupt death stunned the world.. Although with pictures and videos of our legend plastered on every newspapers and websites, fan blogs, youtube, many experienced a difficult time processing that Michael was... gone.
People claim that life is fragile. It is so cruel to witness how a person can be alive and enjoying the sunshine one minute, and then locked up in a cold refrigerator the next, waiting for his/her funeral.
This issue became personal when I lost my best friend on Tuesday, June 16th, at 5:30pm. Especially right after two grueling back to back IB 117 lab and lecture midterms on top of my research lab projects. With an average of four hours of sleep each night for the past three weeks, I thought I could finally relax for a couple hours after I handed Professor Carlson my red scantron.
But this blissful thought slipped through my fingers like sand in a tightly clenched fist as I strained to comprehend what my sobbing mom was trying to tell me over the phone. Although she did not mean to, she exponentially alarmed and scared me as she kept on stalling the inevitable news by asking me, "where are you, are you far from your apartment, is there a place you can sit down, etc." I immediately thought that my baby Australian cattledog experienced complications during her 4th knee surgery… Never would I come to the conclusion that Max, my bubba, my very first dog, the big St. Bernard mixed with a Bull Terrier, who was my shadow just died 5 minutes before my mother’s phone call. To say the least, this curve ball really took me by surprise.
My heart cried as I processed the information my mother was forcing me to hear. I wanted to scream, but all I could muster were these useless questions:
"How could he have an unknown tumor in his spleen? Why would it even rupture? He cannot just leave? I need him, please don’t take him away from me. He was still playing with the water hose on Sunday…. Why would he be “dead” on Tuesday? He doesn’t belong in that refrigerator mmmooommm!"
Although more than a week has passed, I still silently cry at night. I need my buddy so much. No matter how much I beg God to please don’t take him away from me, I must now accept the fact that he can no longer guard the bathroom door to protect me now. Or snuggle with me as I read before bed. Or wag his tail when I enter the room. Or stick his wet nose up to my face to kiss me...
My parents cremated him three days ago. My only solace is that he is finally home, safe and sound.
I really did love him.
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