Well, it's 3:28am, and I've been kept up all night by a question that was posed earlier this evening by a friend. What is life? What is its purpose?
Anyone who knows me well knows that this is probably the number one way to mess with my head. :) So here I am, once again, pondering what the purpose is of this life.
As everyone knows, our experiences shape the people we become, and we are constantly changing based on those experiences. There is zero doubt at all that the loss of my siblings has played an enormous role in my becoming the person that I am today. I've stated many times to my closest friends that had it not been for Ricky passing away, I likely wouldn't have gotten married to the person I did. Had it not been for Rocky passing away, I likely would not be in the process of ending that same relationship. But those two young men did pass away, and with them came drastic, life-altering decisions that I can honestly say would not have been made had they been around. The question then arises - why? Why did Ricky's passing trigger a hasty decision to get married? And why did Rocky's passing trigger the courage to end that same marriage?
The only thing I can think of is that after Ricky passed away, life became hard. Very hard. I can only say that it seemed like a good idea to get married at that time to provide a much needed distraction. I'm not saying I sacrificed myself for the good of my family. That's not the case. I'm not that selfless. I honestly did think that the person I was marrying was "the one." There was no doubt that I wanted to marry him, but as they say, hindsight is 20/20, and as I look back, there were many signs that the idea probably wasn't a good one. But in any case, he was "the one" at that time.
Then came Rocky's illness and subsequent passing, and all of a sudden, life became even harder. Much harder. What I don't sometimes understand is why, when Ricky's passing triggered a decision that would bring happiness to those around me, did Rocky's passing triggered a decision that would bring sadness. Obviously no parent wants to see their child's marriage fall apart, so why did I put my parents through that at a time when they were already reeling from their losses?
Many times, I have wondered if I made a mistake leaving that relationship. And each time, my heart and mind have told me that I have not. Every single time, I come to the conclusion that life is too short to be anything but happy. Life is too short to worry about what anyone but yourself feels is right. Life is too short to waste.
DISCLAIMER: I'm not telling everyone to go and get divorced. That is absolutely not the case. Every relationship has its issues. Brother-sister relationships do, parent-child relationships do, husband-wife relationships do. You don't walk away from a relationship when things get hard - you work hard to make those relationships work. But sometimes, some relationships aren't meant to survive, and mine is one of those unfortunate relationships. On the flip side, some relationships are forced to survive for various reasons. In any case, the decision is for each to make on his or her own, based on his or her circumstances. I can only say that based on where my life was at the time, walking away was the best decision for OUR relationship.
So back to the discussion about life. I won't lie, there have been many, many times that I have been saddened by the reality that is my life. Every now and again, I hear my parents reminisce about their youth and their "college days." I have heard that the years of teens and 20s are the best years of ones life, and days that many think about as they get older and long to go back to. I am now 33 years old, and already at a relatively young age (for the record, I feel much older), I find myself thinking back to "the good ol' days." My teen years were spent under strict control of my parents. The focus was solely on education, for good reason. My parents, like every other parent, wanted their children to work hard and make something of their lives. Being the eldest however, I was the experimental child. Every rule was practiced on me and then relaxed for the siblings behind me. I was the easy child though. My focus was always on making something of myself (eldest child syndrome?), and that wasn't going to happen without an education. So that's what I did - I studied. Every Friday night was spent in the company of my textbooks. Every weekend was spent studying. Every summer was spent getting ahead by taking summer courses. The efforts paid off and I ended up being, at times, a ridiculously successful student. That work ethic continued into university, and after a couple of years of being unable to find my niche, I finally found it in Psychology. After starting to work full-time at a job that was too good to give up, I cut school down to part-time. Between working full-time and trying to finish school, I was left with little time to do much else...so I didn't. Then in June 2002, Ricky passed away, and all of a sudden, life was turned upside down. I was only 22 when Ricky was taken from us. In hindsight, still a child, but one that was forced to grow up pretty quickly. Any hopes of "having fun" were pretty much wiped out with Ricky's passing. Through that struggle, I finally completed my university degree in May 2004 and by this time, was already engaged to be married. I dove into wedding preparations and got married in August 2004. In September, I switched gears, returned to school and started my path to a CGA.
For the next 5 years, that's what life was about. School, work, marriage, school, work, marriage. At 24, I was a wife, a daughter in law, a student and an employee. Hindsight, again, is 20/20, and I see now that I was not much of a daughter or sister for those 5 years. I simply didn't have time to be. There would sometimes be weeks between the times that I spoke or saw Rocky, and THAT bothers me to this day. Because of my priorities at the time, I missed out on 5 years of my brother's life. Life was supposed to calm down once school was finished. If I charge through now, I can be done by this time, and then I'll have time to do this and that. But life doesn't work on our schedule. That is a lesson that I have learned the hard way. In June 2009, Rocky, as everyone knows, was diagnosed with cancer. My priorities changed - he became my only priority. But that didn't stop me from working. That didn't stop me from taking courses. I still did both of those things.
Rocky died in August 2010, and my CGA still wasn't complete.
I considered quitting the CGA during Rocky's illness, when it became evident that he would not survive. But my baby brother, in many ways, knew me better than I knew myself, and he must have been able to sense that I would be a quitter, because he told my husband at the time, to ensure that I completed the program. He also knew I could never say no to his wishes.
Cost-benefit analysis is a topic discussed often in CGA courses. There have been minimal benefits of a CGA to date, since I was already doing my current job before being designated. But what did this CGA cost me? It cost me time with my brother. Time that I will never get back. It cost me laughs, talks, fights, arguments. It cost me countless memories.
I was 30 when Rocky passed away, and now 2 1/2 years later, I sit here and wonder, what I have to look back and reminisce about.
Do I look back and reminisce about how I spent all of my time with my textbooks in my teen years? Do I look back and reminsce about the falling out after Ricky's passing? Or do I look back and reminsce about sacrificing time with my brother in pursuit of a better career?
What will I look back to when I'm old(er)?
In November 2011, I finally learned that life is too short to be anything but happy. That is one of the major lessons that Rocky taught me. And that is why I left my marriage. There was no point struggling in an unhappy relationship when he and I could both have a chance at happiness by being apart.
It has been a tough lesson, but one that is valuable. The point of life is to be happy. It's to love those around you, cherish each moment with them, because you just don't know what tomorrow holds. It's to pursue goals, but not at the expense of everything else in your life. I will never get a second chance to spend time with my brothers. I have lost that opportunity, but hope that through my experiences, someone else may take advantage of the time they've been given.
I don't know if I'll ever truly be happy in life, given the losses that my parents and I have suffered, but it would be cowardice to not try. It would be an injustice to two amazing young men, who I feel in many ways, had to sacrifice their lives in order to teach me a lesson. And to let that sacrifice go to waste would be unjustifiable.
So please, live life, be happy, cherish the time you have because no one knows what tomorrow will bring.
Love you boys - now and always. Thank you...and I'm sorry.<3 <3
Monday, January 14, 2013
Monday, December 31, 2012
Goodbye 2012...Hello 2013!
Well, it's almost time to turn the page on 2012 and flip into 2013! As I reflect on the last year and the ones just before it, it occurs to me that despite all of the trials and tribulations that life throws one's way, there are always lessons to be learned.
For me, 2009 was about facing adversity and learning to put my own selfish needs aside to devote my time and attention to a greater cause. It was about learning that sometimes, there is no greater satisfaction than knowing you've helped someone in their time of need. It was about learning the meaning of true, unconditional love.
2010 was a year of immense hope, debilitating fear and heartbreaking loss. Amid the turmoil however, 2010 also taught me that true, unconditional love is undying. The person may be taken away, but the love will never be. Love will always prevail.
2011 was a year of unspeakable grief, and the realizeation that life is constantly changing. As humans, we are constantly changing. Through the grief, the year was about learning that life is just too short to be anything but happy, and that spending it trying to hold onto something that no longer exists is futile, and unjust. 2011 was a year of gathering courage, mustering strength and making decisions. It was about forging a new path, when the existing one led to a dead end.
2012 has been about achievement, finality and self-realization. It is the year in which I have largely been able to come to peace with my losses, gaining confidence that all has worked out as it was meant to, and that it is okay. Terrible, yes. Painful, yes. Unfair, yes. But okay. My trip to India played a large role in this realization. Until I went to Kiratpur Sahib in India, where my brothers' ashes are scattered, I was unable to find peace with what had happened to our family. Visiting this gurudwara however changed that. I will never forget that day. I was a wreck while I was there, but as we left, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders, and I have been feeling "at peace" ever since. My brothers are fine. They are with God, in a beautiful, quiet place, where gurbani is heard all day, everyday. They can't not be resting in peace, and knowing in my heart now that they're okay, makes me okay as well. 2012 has also been a year about putting everything else aside, and reconnecting with myself - a girl who became lost in 2002, and re-emerged as a woman in 2012 after a decade-long life storm. It has been about finding and getting to know myself again. The Rupi that was and the Rupi that is are two very different people, and it was a pleasure to finally get to know the new Rupi. She's quite awesome, really! ;)
In the last decade, I've had people come and go from my life, and some who have stuck by my side through every up and down. I have met amazing people who have offered me unlikely support at my lowest points, and also have been surprised by those who have been notably absent. One of the major lessons I learned this year is that if there are people who contribute nothing to my life, or add negativity to it, I don't want them around. It's that simple. I have chosen to surround myself with happy, caring, supportive people who bring positivity into my life, and the difference I have felt in myself is amazing. I am a happier, healthier and better person today than I was 366 days ago.
As this year comes to an end, I find myself, for the first time in a long while, looking forward to seeing what the new year has in store. In many ways, it is a year of new beginnings, and I can only hope that they are the beginnings of something wonderful.
During the course of 2012, we have seen ups and downs. Sadly, the downs are the ones that stick out more in my mind. So many senseless acts of violence inflicted on one person by another. I hope that we have all learned lessons from these terrible acts and act upon those lessons to make the coming year a better one for everyone. If we all act together towards a common goal, nothing is unachievable. This world is an amazing place just waiting to be discovered. It is most definitely worth fighting for.
Having said all this, I am reminded of a quote by Harvey MacKay which states:
For me, 2009 was about facing adversity and learning to put my own selfish needs aside to devote my time and attention to a greater cause. It was about learning that sometimes, there is no greater satisfaction than knowing you've helped someone in their time of need. It was about learning the meaning of true, unconditional love.
2010 was a year of immense hope, debilitating fear and heartbreaking loss. Amid the turmoil however, 2010 also taught me that true, unconditional love is undying. The person may be taken away, but the love will never be. Love will always prevail.
2011 was a year of unspeakable grief, and the realizeation that life is constantly changing. As humans, we are constantly changing. Through the grief, the year was about learning that life is just too short to be anything but happy, and that spending it trying to hold onto something that no longer exists is futile, and unjust. 2011 was a year of gathering courage, mustering strength and making decisions. It was about forging a new path, when the existing one led to a dead end.
2012 has been about achievement, finality and self-realization. It is the year in which I have largely been able to come to peace with my losses, gaining confidence that all has worked out as it was meant to, and that it is okay. Terrible, yes. Painful, yes. Unfair, yes. But okay. My trip to India played a large role in this realization. Until I went to Kiratpur Sahib in India, where my brothers' ashes are scattered, I was unable to find peace with what had happened to our family. Visiting this gurudwara however changed that. I will never forget that day. I was a wreck while I was there, but as we left, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders, and I have been feeling "at peace" ever since. My brothers are fine. They are with God, in a beautiful, quiet place, where gurbani is heard all day, everyday. They can't not be resting in peace, and knowing in my heart now that they're okay, makes me okay as well. 2012 has also been a year about putting everything else aside, and reconnecting with myself - a girl who became lost in 2002, and re-emerged as a woman in 2012 after a decade-long life storm. It has been about finding and getting to know myself again. The Rupi that was and the Rupi that is are two very different people, and it was a pleasure to finally get to know the new Rupi. She's quite awesome, really! ;)
In the last decade, I've had people come and go from my life, and some who have stuck by my side through every up and down. I have met amazing people who have offered me unlikely support at my lowest points, and also have been surprised by those who have been notably absent. One of the major lessons I learned this year is that if there are people who contribute nothing to my life, or add negativity to it, I don't want them around. It's that simple. I have chosen to surround myself with happy, caring, supportive people who bring positivity into my life, and the difference I have felt in myself is amazing. I am a happier, healthier and better person today than I was 366 days ago.
As this year comes to an end, I find myself, for the first time in a long while, looking forward to seeing what the new year has in store. In many ways, it is a year of new beginnings, and I can only hope that they are the beginnings of something wonderful.
During the course of 2012, we have seen ups and downs. Sadly, the downs are the ones that stick out more in my mind. So many senseless acts of violence inflicted on one person by another. I hope that we have all learned lessons from these terrible acts and act upon those lessons to make the coming year a better one for everyone. If we all act together towards a common goal, nothing is unachievable. This world is an amazing place just waiting to be discovered. It is most definitely worth fighting for.
Having said all this, I am reminded of a quote by Harvey MacKay which states:
Life is too short to wake up with regrets.
So love the people who treat you right.
Forget about those who don’t.
Believe everything happens for a reason.
If you get a chance, take it.
If it changes your life, let it.
Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would most likely be worth it.
It has taken me a long time to get back to a place where I can say that "life is beautiful," but today I can. Take it by the reins and make it whatever you want. Life is a book and it's up to each and every one of us to write our own story. Make it a good one!
Wishing my family, friends, and the world, in general, a great "last day of 2012" and the very best in 2013. May you all be blessed with love, health, happiness and peace. <3
Friday, December 28, 2012
What is Wrong with this World?
I've been meaning to post something for the last little bit, but as always, life gets in the way and things get pushed back. My next post was supposed to be in relation to the lessons that I learned during my trip to India, but that will now have to wait. Instead, I have a beef with another issue that has been on my mind for the last couple of weeks.
Many of you will already have heard about the brutal gang-rape and beating of a 23 year old woman on a moving bus in Delhi, India. Reading details of what that poor girl endured for 40 minutes, at the hands of 6 sick, twisted men, literally left my body and heart aching. Time and time again, I have found myself trying to imagine what she must have been going through during her horrific ordeal. I had an instance recently where I three individuals verbally attacked me, all at once. I remember feeling like prey among predators, and I remember all too well how I felt during and after that episode. It's not pleasant. Despite those feelings, I cannot even BEGIN to imagine what this poor girl must have been going through during that attack - knowing that there was no escape, and her only chance at help was also being beaten.
And then she was dumped like trash when the a$$holes decided they'd had enough? How does any of this make sense?
What is wrong with this world?
Have people become so callous and so heartless?
Did any of those six men think even for a second that they should stop harming her?
Did any of them think even for a moment of their own mothers and sisters?
Do any of them have a conscience?
How can anyone have the ability to be so cruel?
I just don't understand what is wrong with people these days.
Where do people come off thinking that they have ANY right to play with the lives of others? Be it shootings, stabbings, robberies, murders, rapes - why do people seem to think they have the right to bring injustice upon others? Where did we go wrong?
In an age where women are blasting off into space, sitting in the UN, representing their countries in every field, why are women still being treated like trash? And why is it being allowed and tolerated?
Since this incident on December 16, I have read about a 3 year old girl who was raped by the husband of the owner of her preschool, I have read about a teenage girl who committed suicide after she was gang-raped by three men and subsequently ignored and even mocked by police, I have read about a 42 year old woman being gang-raped. Before all of this, I heard about a police officer who confronted a couple of thugs in Amritsar after they teased his daughter. They killed him.
Completely oblivious to the dangers that women face in India, I found myself arguing a few times with my mother about going out for dinner with cousins "after dark." It was dark by 6. But I found out later that THIS is the problem and the reason that no one wants their sisters and daughters out of their sights. My own cousin was followed by three goons while he was travelling home with this wife one evening. He got home, told his wife to run inside and send out his brother. What would have happened if they weren't close to home? I picked up a newspaper during my trip to India, and the first three pages were filled only with cases of rape. THREE PAGES of articles!
Why does it feel like the idiots are taking over the world? Why does it feel like we have to fear leaving our houses because there might be a deranged individual just around the corner that will violate and wrong us?
The girl from Delhi has now died after a combination of multi-organ failure, infection, heart attack and significant brain injury. She had had the majority of her small intestine removed by doctors, after a significant portion was removed by her attackers. Had she survived, she would have been forced to live with a colostomy bag attached to her. She would likely not have been able to have children. She surely would not have been able to eat normally.
Who would have thought when she went out to watch a movie on that Sunday evening, that there was a terrible nightmare awaiting her and her family?
I sit here and cannot help but think about her mother. What must that mother have been feeling watching her daughter suffer and deteriorate? I watched my mother watch her son suffer and deteriorate - but Rocky died of "natural causes." This mother was watching her daughter suffer as a result of the actions of others. What must that father and brother be feeling? Men seem to naturally have a tendancy to be protective of their daughters and sisters - how will they deal with the fact that their loved one was wronged by people, to whom they will likely never have access? I literally have a headache thinking about this family.
I can't say that I'm a firm supporter of capital punishment, and I'm not a supporter at all of vigilante justice, but I find myself completely supportive of the death penalty for all 6 attackers in this case (including a juvenile - WTF?!), and kind of supportive of even vigilante justice. I do not think that these individuals have the right to live in a civilized society, and I do not think that they should be able to live after their actions ended the life of an innocent young girl who had immense potential and promise and more than likely, would have been a productive member of society. I also don't think that hanging them (India's preferred method of execution, apparently) is enough. It seems too easy a way to go compared to the option they put ahead of their victim. Personally I'd like to shove the same "long iron rod" that they used up their asses and give them a taste of their own medicine.
I'm happy to see that the Indian public has erupted in response to this horrific crime, and is demanding justice and protection for women. I sincerely hope that this young woman's death does not go in vain and that significant changes are made in order to protect women and their rights. This is the 21st century, India. Get with the program. Surely the largest democracy in the world can do better than this to protect its citizens.
When I first heard about this case and the medical emergency that she was facing, I hoped that she would die rather than dealing with a lifetime of serious, limiting, medical problems. Clearly I underestimated her courage, because just a couple of days later, not only did she clearly give the magistrate a statement, but she also expressed her desire to live. Then I hoped that she would live and become the face of change for India. Now that she is gone, I don't know what to think. The fact that she faced such a serious crisis after this incident just goes to show how brutally and mercilessly she was attacked. And why was she attacked? Because she was a girl who felt that she had the right to go watch a movie on a Sunday night with a friend. How dare she, right? Absolutely ridiculous. Something has got to give.
I wish I could save the world. Maybe it's because of the loss of my brothers and my wish that no family ever go through that kind of pain, but I sincerely wish that I could save the world or at least do something to ease people's pain. In this instance, in the absence of anything else, I pray that this beautiful young soul rest in peace, and I pray that her family find peace and move on with the same courage that their daughter and sister exhibited.
I also pray that her attackers spend the rest of their days, death penalty or not, suffering and struggling with immense, unshakable guilt.
Women are not second class citizens. They are doctors. They are engineers. They are lawyers. They are astronauts. They are homemakers. They are friends. They are sisters. They are daughters. For the love of God, they are mothers - they give life! Without women, none of us would be here today!
A new year is coming upon us, and many of us will be reflecting on what we achieved in 2012 and making resolutions for 2013. I encourage every single person to resolve to be a better, more tolerant, more respectful person. All it takes is one person doing something positive to set off a chain of positive reactions. I'm not saying to go out there and save the world, but just try to make changes in your own lives to bring some sense of happiness to others. The next time you're in the Starbucks drive-thru, pull up to the window and pay for the person behind you as well. How much is a coffee anyways? I've tried this with the hope that someone's morning has been brightened just a little bit because of my actions. Hold the door open. Press the "open" button on the elevator to hold it for someone running towards it. Say "good morning." Ask someone how they're doing. Smile.
I know there are more good people than bad out there. Let's not let this world go to them. There's absolutely no reason for any of us to have to think twice about where we're going, who we're going with, when we're going, why we're going. We should be able to do all of those things without fear. It's not unreasonable. It's not unheard of. It is possible. But it's going to take an effort, and it's going to take people not forgetting the latest tragedy until the next one strikes.
Rest in Peace "Damini."
Many of you will already have heard about the brutal gang-rape and beating of a 23 year old woman on a moving bus in Delhi, India. Reading details of what that poor girl endured for 40 minutes, at the hands of 6 sick, twisted men, literally left my body and heart aching. Time and time again, I have found myself trying to imagine what she must have been going through during her horrific ordeal. I had an instance recently where I three individuals verbally attacked me, all at once. I remember feeling like prey among predators, and I remember all too well how I felt during and after that episode. It's not pleasant. Despite those feelings, I cannot even BEGIN to imagine what this poor girl must have been going through during that attack - knowing that there was no escape, and her only chance at help was also being beaten.
And then she was dumped like trash when the a$$holes decided they'd had enough? How does any of this make sense?
What is wrong with this world?
Have people become so callous and so heartless?
Did any of those six men think even for a second that they should stop harming her?
Did any of them think even for a moment of their own mothers and sisters?
Do any of them have a conscience?
How can anyone have the ability to be so cruel?
I just don't understand what is wrong with people these days.
Where do people come off thinking that they have ANY right to play with the lives of others? Be it shootings, stabbings, robberies, murders, rapes - why do people seem to think they have the right to bring injustice upon others? Where did we go wrong?
In an age where women are blasting off into space, sitting in the UN, representing their countries in every field, why are women still being treated like trash? And why is it being allowed and tolerated?
Since this incident on December 16, I have read about a 3 year old girl who was raped by the husband of the owner of her preschool, I have read about a teenage girl who committed suicide after she was gang-raped by three men and subsequently ignored and even mocked by police, I have read about a 42 year old woman being gang-raped. Before all of this, I heard about a police officer who confronted a couple of thugs in Amritsar after they teased his daughter. They killed him.
Completely oblivious to the dangers that women face in India, I found myself arguing a few times with my mother about going out for dinner with cousins "after dark." It was dark by 6. But I found out later that THIS is the problem and the reason that no one wants their sisters and daughters out of their sights. My own cousin was followed by three goons while he was travelling home with this wife one evening. He got home, told his wife to run inside and send out his brother. What would have happened if they weren't close to home? I picked up a newspaper during my trip to India, and the first three pages were filled only with cases of rape. THREE PAGES of articles!
Why does it feel like the idiots are taking over the world? Why does it feel like we have to fear leaving our houses because there might be a deranged individual just around the corner that will violate and wrong us?
The girl from Delhi has now died after a combination of multi-organ failure, infection, heart attack and significant brain injury. She had had the majority of her small intestine removed by doctors, after a significant portion was removed by her attackers. Had she survived, she would have been forced to live with a colostomy bag attached to her. She would likely not have been able to have children. She surely would not have been able to eat normally.
Who would have thought when she went out to watch a movie on that Sunday evening, that there was a terrible nightmare awaiting her and her family?
I sit here and cannot help but think about her mother. What must that mother have been feeling watching her daughter suffer and deteriorate? I watched my mother watch her son suffer and deteriorate - but Rocky died of "natural causes." This mother was watching her daughter suffer as a result of the actions of others. What must that father and brother be feeling? Men seem to naturally have a tendancy to be protective of their daughters and sisters - how will they deal with the fact that their loved one was wronged by people, to whom they will likely never have access? I literally have a headache thinking about this family.
I can't say that I'm a firm supporter of capital punishment, and I'm not a supporter at all of vigilante justice, but I find myself completely supportive of the death penalty for all 6 attackers in this case (including a juvenile - WTF?!), and kind of supportive of even vigilante justice. I do not think that these individuals have the right to live in a civilized society, and I do not think that they should be able to live after their actions ended the life of an innocent young girl who had immense potential and promise and more than likely, would have been a productive member of society. I also don't think that hanging them (India's preferred method of execution, apparently) is enough. It seems too easy a way to go compared to the option they put ahead of their victim. Personally I'd like to shove the same "long iron rod" that they used up their asses and give them a taste of their own medicine.
I'm happy to see that the Indian public has erupted in response to this horrific crime, and is demanding justice and protection for women. I sincerely hope that this young woman's death does not go in vain and that significant changes are made in order to protect women and their rights. This is the 21st century, India. Get with the program. Surely the largest democracy in the world can do better than this to protect its citizens.
When I first heard about this case and the medical emergency that she was facing, I hoped that she would die rather than dealing with a lifetime of serious, limiting, medical problems. Clearly I underestimated her courage, because just a couple of days later, not only did she clearly give the magistrate a statement, but she also expressed her desire to live. Then I hoped that she would live and become the face of change for India. Now that she is gone, I don't know what to think. The fact that she faced such a serious crisis after this incident just goes to show how brutally and mercilessly she was attacked. And why was she attacked? Because she was a girl who felt that she had the right to go watch a movie on a Sunday night with a friend. How dare she, right? Absolutely ridiculous. Something has got to give.
I wish I could save the world. Maybe it's because of the loss of my brothers and my wish that no family ever go through that kind of pain, but I sincerely wish that I could save the world or at least do something to ease people's pain. In this instance, in the absence of anything else, I pray that this beautiful young soul rest in peace, and I pray that her family find peace and move on with the same courage that their daughter and sister exhibited.
I also pray that her attackers spend the rest of their days, death penalty or not, suffering and struggling with immense, unshakable guilt.
Women are not second class citizens. They are doctors. They are engineers. They are lawyers. They are astronauts. They are homemakers. They are friends. They are sisters. They are daughters. For the love of God, they are mothers - they give life! Without women, none of us would be here today!
A new year is coming upon us, and many of us will be reflecting on what we achieved in 2012 and making resolutions for 2013. I encourage every single person to resolve to be a better, more tolerant, more respectful person. All it takes is one person doing something positive to set off a chain of positive reactions. I'm not saying to go out there and save the world, but just try to make changes in your own lives to bring some sense of happiness to others. The next time you're in the Starbucks drive-thru, pull up to the window and pay for the person behind you as well. How much is a coffee anyways? I've tried this with the hope that someone's morning has been brightened just a little bit because of my actions. Hold the door open. Press the "open" button on the elevator to hold it for someone running towards it. Say "good morning." Ask someone how they're doing. Smile.
I know there are more good people than bad out there. Let's not let this world go to them. There's absolutely no reason for any of us to have to think twice about where we're going, who we're going with, when we're going, why we're going. We should be able to do all of those things without fear. It's not unreasonable. It's not unheard of. It is possible. But it's going to take an effort, and it's going to take people not forgetting the latest tragedy until the next one strikes.
Rest in Peace "Damini."
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Happiness. What? Where?
Wow, it's been a while since I've been here! Most people who know me well know that I express myself best in writing. Writing also allows me to vent in my own way on my own terms. And for some reason, it provides some with comedic relief (you geeks know who you are!), so here's the latest rambling update. :)
So what's been going with me - in a word: LOTS.
Some of those nearest and dearest to me will know that just over 9 months ago, CJ and I parted ways after 7 years together. CJ and I had some good times in our time together, but unfortunately, things changed. I've always said that it's better for two people to be apart and have a chance at happiness separately than be together and be miserable. As sad as it is that things had to come to this, I feel that this is the best decision for both of our futures, so here we are.
That's the biggest development of the last 9 months. Other than that, as many of you know, I finally managed to complete my CGA. It's funny - I started my pursuit of an accounting designation a month after CJ and I got together - and I finished it 4 months after we ended our relationship. So much happened during the pursuit of this designation. On the same token, so much happened in the last decade of my life. The journey from 2002 to 2012 has been a difficult one. There have been ups and downs. I have been the happiest I've ever been and the saddest I've ever been. I have seen highs and lows. I remember just a while ago when someone would ask me "what's new?" I'd say "same old, same old" with a sense of boredom in my voice and body language. Not anymore. "Same old, same old" is, in many ways, better than having lots going on. In many ways "same old, same old" is actually a blessing. I wish I had realized this earlier. I'm sure I would have enjoyed those moments more knowing how fast things can change, and how eagerly some actually wait for those simple, no-drama moments. But as they say, we shouldn't regret those things that we cannot change, but instead, learn from those moments and make the best of our future. "Same old, same old" is now welcomed.
In March this year, Gurbaksh Chahal, the superstar entrepreneur based out of San Francisco, and his company RadiumOne, unveiled a new social media platform called Via.me. I have never come across a social media platform that is SO inspirational. I have made a few very good friends on Via.me, and have also had the opportunity to learn quite a bit. A few quotes (of many) that I have come across and have really enjoyed and have tried to apply to my life are as follows:
1) Let your past make you better, not bitter.
2) Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. So, love the people who treat you right, and forget about the ones who don't. And believe that everything happens for a reason...if you get a chance, take it; if it changes you, let it. Nobody ever said that it would be easy...they just promised it would be worth it.
3) Every bad situation will have something positive. Even a dead clock shows the correct time twice a day. Stay positive in life. God knows hat is best for you.
4) Worrying does not empty tomrrow of its troubles, it empties today of its strength.
5) Never wish that life was easier, wish that you were better.
6) Sometimes you justhave to stop worrying, wondering and doubting. Have faith that things will work out, maybe not how you planned, but just who they're meant to be.
There are many more, but you get the idea. Someone asked me a few weeks ago, that other than my parents, who is the person that has been most influential in my life. Without a doubt, that person is my Rockstar. In his young life, he taught me how important it is to live life on your terms, how important it is to be happy in life. I'm sure if he's watching me now, he probably wants to punch me in the face for not doing a better job (lol), but I assure you Rockstar, I'm trying! <3 I forget often, but I know that despite all that the last decade has brought my way, I am still very blessed. Every so often, my breath is taken away when I think about the amazing people that surround me. The Big Guy above must not be too angry with me for turning my back on Him, because He has sent, and keeps sending amazing people my way - people who listen, who offer feedback, who encourage, and who share their experiences. People who offer advice, who give me honest opinions, and who don't judge me when I have a psychotic break (instead they laugh, because apparently they're a bit jerky like that!). Even people who are complete strangers unintentionally help me along! One of the quotes above is from Gurbaksh Chahal himself, who I follow (okay, stalk) on Via.me. The point is that at every turn, there is someone out there who either intentionally, or unintentionally, pushes me in the right direction when I may be headed off elsewhere. Over the last little bit, following the Chahal siblings has even made me make up...to an extent...with the Big Guy. Their devotion to their religion and God makes me want to believe again. But everyone knows I'm as stubborn as they come, so it's taking longer than it should for me to take action on this. At the end of the day, I'm realizing that God may have taken away my brothers, but He has given me an amazing circle of friends who pick me up when I'm down, but also pull me back when my head starts to get too big. Sometimes I wonder why these dorks stick around - gluttons for punishment they are! <3
Just last week, I had yet another psychotic break (don't ask!), and my victim was one of my newest friends. Rather than running for the hills though, this friend told me that I need to try and find happiness in life, because if I didn't, I would be holding myself back from whatever happiness life could offer me in the future. Now, it's not that I hadn't heard all this before. I had. My friends, who have been involved in my life for years and years and years, have all said this to me. They all knew about the difficulties I faced over the years and watched as I went through all the motions. But this was someone who I had just met, and for this person to give me that kind of feedback was a bit of a reality check. Unintentionally, I had revealed just how messed up I am. I mean, we talked and everything, but I really didn't think that he would be able to pick up on just how messed up things were. I honestly thought I was doing pretty good! Another friend, told me just last night, that she hasn't heard me talk about my own happiness. When I talk about the future, I seem to try and come up with ways to stick it to other people. That's also a wakeup call. I never thought that that was what I was doing, but realized that she is right.
Why is happiness so elusive? Or, is it? What is happiness? How can I find it? How can I make peace with myself and all that has happened, so that I can live my upcoming life to the fullest and make the most of it? I thought I was doing all those things, but I guess I need to focus a bit more on how I'm going to do these things. I know what my goal is - the goal is to live a successful and happy life for myself and my brothers. They never got a chance to experience all that I still have an opportunity to. The last thing I want is for me to meet them at the pearly gates one day and have them say "That's it?...THAT's what you did in life? Stupid lady!" I owe it to my brothers, who have taught me so so much in their tiny little lives, to take those lessons and move forward in a positive way. My brothers will reside forever in my heart, and from there, they will share in my experiences. I'm realizing more and more with each passing day, that by not living my life in a positive and happy way, I'm doing a great injustice to them.
So now begins a conscious effort to resolve these issues. My nears and dears are right - I won't ever find happiness unless things change. So now begins my personal happiness project. How I'm going to do this is still unclear, but I figure starting with a long overdue trip to the temple, followed by a long vacation is a good place to start - so that's where I intend to begin this "eat, pray, love" ish journey.
I'll try updating you all on this interesting escapade. We'll see how it goes. ;)
Anyways, signing off for now! Hope everyone is well! <3
PS: For those of you curious about this Via.me thing - follow me at http://via.me/RupiG
So what's been going with me - in a word: LOTS.
Some of those nearest and dearest to me will know that just over 9 months ago, CJ and I parted ways after 7 years together. CJ and I had some good times in our time together, but unfortunately, things changed. I've always said that it's better for two people to be apart and have a chance at happiness separately than be together and be miserable. As sad as it is that things had to come to this, I feel that this is the best decision for both of our futures, so here we are.
That's the biggest development of the last 9 months. Other than that, as many of you know, I finally managed to complete my CGA. It's funny - I started my pursuit of an accounting designation a month after CJ and I got together - and I finished it 4 months after we ended our relationship. So much happened during the pursuit of this designation. On the same token, so much happened in the last decade of my life. The journey from 2002 to 2012 has been a difficult one. There have been ups and downs. I have been the happiest I've ever been and the saddest I've ever been. I have seen highs and lows. I remember just a while ago when someone would ask me "what's new?" I'd say "same old, same old" with a sense of boredom in my voice and body language. Not anymore. "Same old, same old" is, in many ways, better than having lots going on. In many ways "same old, same old" is actually a blessing. I wish I had realized this earlier. I'm sure I would have enjoyed those moments more knowing how fast things can change, and how eagerly some actually wait for those simple, no-drama moments. But as they say, we shouldn't regret those things that we cannot change, but instead, learn from those moments and make the best of our future. "Same old, same old" is now welcomed.
In March this year, Gurbaksh Chahal, the superstar entrepreneur based out of San Francisco, and his company RadiumOne, unveiled a new social media platform called Via.me. I have never come across a social media platform that is SO inspirational. I have made a few very good friends on Via.me, and have also had the opportunity to learn quite a bit. A few quotes (of many) that I have come across and have really enjoyed and have tried to apply to my life are as follows:
1) Let your past make you better, not bitter.
2) Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. So, love the people who treat you right, and forget about the ones who don't. And believe that everything happens for a reason...if you get a chance, take it; if it changes you, let it. Nobody ever said that it would be easy...they just promised it would be worth it.
3) Every bad situation will have something positive. Even a dead clock shows the correct time twice a day. Stay positive in life. God knows hat is best for you.
4) Worrying does not empty tomrrow of its troubles, it empties today of its strength.
5) Never wish that life was easier, wish that you were better.
6) Sometimes you justhave to stop worrying, wondering and doubting. Have faith that things will work out, maybe not how you planned, but just who they're meant to be.
There are many more, but you get the idea. Someone asked me a few weeks ago, that other than my parents, who is the person that has been most influential in my life. Without a doubt, that person is my Rockstar. In his young life, he taught me how important it is to live life on your terms, how important it is to be happy in life. I'm sure if he's watching me now, he probably wants to punch me in the face for not doing a better job (lol), but I assure you Rockstar, I'm trying! <3 I forget often, but I know that despite all that the last decade has brought my way, I am still very blessed. Every so often, my breath is taken away when I think about the amazing people that surround me. The Big Guy above must not be too angry with me for turning my back on Him, because He has sent, and keeps sending amazing people my way - people who listen, who offer feedback, who encourage, and who share their experiences. People who offer advice, who give me honest opinions, and who don't judge me when I have a psychotic break (instead they laugh, because apparently they're a bit jerky like that!). Even people who are complete strangers unintentionally help me along! One of the quotes above is from Gurbaksh Chahal himself, who I follow (okay, stalk) on Via.me. The point is that at every turn, there is someone out there who either intentionally, or unintentionally, pushes me in the right direction when I may be headed off elsewhere. Over the last little bit, following the Chahal siblings has even made me make up...to an extent...with the Big Guy. Their devotion to their religion and God makes me want to believe again. But everyone knows I'm as stubborn as they come, so it's taking longer than it should for me to take action on this. At the end of the day, I'm realizing that God may have taken away my brothers, but He has given me an amazing circle of friends who pick me up when I'm down, but also pull me back when my head starts to get too big. Sometimes I wonder why these dorks stick around - gluttons for punishment they are! <3
Just last week, I had yet another psychotic break (don't ask!), and my victim was one of my newest friends. Rather than running for the hills though, this friend told me that I need to try and find happiness in life, because if I didn't, I would be holding myself back from whatever happiness life could offer me in the future. Now, it's not that I hadn't heard all this before. I had. My friends, who have been involved in my life for years and years and years, have all said this to me. They all knew about the difficulties I faced over the years and watched as I went through all the motions. But this was someone who I had just met, and for this person to give me that kind of feedback was a bit of a reality check. Unintentionally, I had revealed just how messed up I am. I mean, we talked and everything, but I really didn't think that he would be able to pick up on just how messed up things were. I honestly thought I was doing pretty good! Another friend, told me just last night, that she hasn't heard me talk about my own happiness. When I talk about the future, I seem to try and come up with ways to stick it to other people. That's also a wakeup call. I never thought that that was what I was doing, but realized that she is right.
Why is happiness so elusive? Or, is it? What is happiness? How can I find it? How can I make peace with myself and all that has happened, so that I can live my upcoming life to the fullest and make the most of it? I thought I was doing all those things, but I guess I need to focus a bit more on how I'm going to do these things. I know what my goal is - the goal is to live a successful and happy life for myself and my brothers. They never got a chance to experience all that I still have an opportunity to. The last thing I want is for me to meet them at the pearly gates one day and have them say "That's it?...THAT's what you did in life? Stupid lady!" I owe it to my brothers, who have taught me so so much in their tiny little lives, to take those lessons and move forward in a positive way. My brothers will reside forever in my heart, and from there, they will share in my experiences. I'm realizing more and more with each passing day, that by not living my life in a positive and happy way, I'm doing a great injustice to them.
So now begins a conscious effort to resolve these issues. My nears and dears are right - I won't ever find happiness unless things change. So now begins my personal happiness project. How I'm going to do this is still unclear, but I figure starting with a long overdue trip to the temple, followed by a long vacation is a good place to start - so that's where I intend to begin this "eat, pray, love" ish journey.
I'll try updating you all on this interesting escapade. We'll see how it goes. ;)
Anyways, signing off for now! Hope everyone is well! <3
PS: For those of you curious about this Via.me thing - follow me at http://via.me/RupiG
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Remember me?
Well, it's been a while since I've posted, and for those of you who look forward to my posts for your daily dose of "Rupi," I apologize for my absence! So, so much has happened since my last post, and yet on the same token, not much at all has happened. It's complicated - I'll fill you in soon. :) In the meantime though, it's fundraising time of year again, so I'm using this blog entry to ask for your support, and to take a chance once again, to tell you a bit about why I ride, and who I ride for. Before I paste my case though, I would like to take an opportunity to thank each and every single person that has supported me during this difficult journey that is my life. Your support has been so appreciated. From giving me advice, listening to me vent or just sitting silently with me, I appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
So without further delay, here it is:
I’ve waited a bit longer than usual to send out my annual request for donations, and the reason for that is simply that until now, I have been uncertain about whether or not I would be participating in this year’s Ride. A number of factors were swaying my mind against participation. Most of these factors are nothing new – guilt about being able to ride when my beautiful Rockstar wasn’t able to do the same, mixed feelings about participating in a fight for the cure, when that cure is going to come too late for my brother, dread of facing another Opening Ceremonies knowing how heart wrenching it will be, and most of all, the pain of reliving Rocky’s battle yet again. By now, most of you know that my baby brother, Bikramjit – better known as Rocky – lost his 14 month battle against cancer in August 2010. Many of you also know that Rocky is the second brother that I have lost. Our first brother, Amrinder – better known as Amar – passed away a few years before Rocky. This year, the Ride starts on what will be the 10th anniversary of Amar’s passing –June 16. I have struggled to decide whether to ride or spend that day with my parents. After an enormous amount of thinking and soul-searching, I have decided that neither of my brothers would want me moping around all day, and would most definitely prefer that I use that time to help others, and as such, I have finally decided that I will be participating in this year’s Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer.
Those of you who know me well will know how devastating Rocky’s loss has been for my family and I. Rocky was and still is, the dearest person to our hearts, and his untimely passing has left an irreparable hole in those hearts. The magnitude to which Rocky’s loss has shattered my parents and I cannot be expressed in words. The pain that we feel each and every moment of each and every day cannot be described. I can never explain to anyone the degree to which my life has been shattered by the loss of my beloved brothers. Amar’s passing was sudden – no one had time to think. But Rocky’s passing – Rocky’s passing was a long, torturous, physically and emotionally painful process during which we were all aware of what was happening – including Rocky. Knowing that Rocky was aware that he was dying, and was helpless torments us on a daily basis. Speaking only for myself, because I’m sure my parents’ pain is exponentially worse than mine, I can only describe this pain as someone clenching their fist around my heart. Even now, 18 months later, my stomach still drops to my feet at the thought of all that he endured. I still cry helplessly when I remember clothes shopping for his final journey and our final moments with him at his funeral. My head hurts to think of his final words and messages to us. My heart aches when I recall him asking to make sure his funeral was small, and just thinking about him imagining himself lying in a casket. My stomach hurts to think about what he must have been thinking. Just yesterday, as I passed by the hospital on the way home, I flashed back to the day that we left the hospital after he had left us, and it took nearly everything out of me to prevent myself from breaking down while driving. Life is not easy – everyone knows that. But our lives have gotten so much harder with the loss of my amazing little brother. My brother was an amazing young man, who deserved far better than he got. I don’t think I will ever be able to come to terms with it, but I can use it to spread awareness, and work to fulfill my brother’s wishes. I was his voice then, and I will continue to be his voice now.
On June 16, 2009 (Amar’s 7th anniversary), my beautiful baby brother, one month shy of his 24thbirthday, was suddenly diagnosed with Diffuse Large B-Cell Non Hodgkin’s Lymphoma – a particularly aggressive, yet treatable, blood cancer. What started off as a small stomach ache escalated into excruciating pain day in and day out. Because he had just started a new job with the RCMP three weeks prior, Rocky refused to take time off of work to see a doctor. Instead he reported to work and carried out his duties each and every day, and then came home and curled up in the fetal position, adamant that he would be fine, and refusing help. On his first compressed day off, Rocky finally went to see his doctor, who ordered X-rays and once she got the results, told him to immediately report to Emergency at SMH for what appeared to be pancreatitis. Little did we know that it would be 42 days, countless tests and biopsies, endless tears and prayers, a round of chemotherapy and one very depressing birthday before Rocky would be able to return home. Rocky went to hospital weighing nearly 200 lbs. He came home weighing 150.
Six weeks later, Rocky experienced an intense headache. When conventional medication failed to provide relief, we rushed him back to Emergency where we were advised that he had contracted meningitis due to his compromised immune system. He spent 10 days in hospital before he was finally allowed to come home again. Two weeks after this, Rocky had his first CT scan since starting chemotherapy. The CT scans prior to treatment had yielded alarming results. Rocky’s internal organs had malignant masses all over them –including an 8cm tumour right in the centre of his chest. Tissue in his trunk was showing signs of necrosis, and his lungs were beginning to deflate. The CT scan that was conducted after 4 of 6 sessions of chemotherapy demonstrated that all of the existing tumours had shrunk in size or had disappeared entirely. But as was the case throughout his battle, the good news came with bad news as well. One new mass had grown on Rocky’s liver since starting chemotherapy. As we would find out much later, with the growth of that new mass, Rocky’s chances of survival were largely wiped out. On his oncologists’ advice, Rocky completed the remaining two sessions of chemotherapy and went in for a PET scan in late November. The results of that scan came back on December 3 – on what would have been Amar’s 27th birthday. Rocky tested PET-positive for cancer. The battle wasn’t over. That night, as he sat quietly in front of the TV, my mom went over and gently put her hand on his head. We watched helplessly as for the first time since his diagnosis, tears rolled down his cheeks.
He was immediately set up for an appointment with a haematologist at Vancouver General Hospital and the process was started for extreme dose chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant.
Like his friends, Rocky had looked forward to the Vancouver Olympics since they were announced. Afterall, it’s not everyday that the Olympics come to your hometown. As the years passed by, Rocky’s excitement increased. But in December 2009, Rocky was told that he would not be able to take in any of the festivities related to the Olympics, because he could not risk infection. So while his friends and thousands upon thousands of people enjoyed pre-Games festivities, my brother sat quietly on the sofa at home, watching it all unfold on TV. Vancouver 2010’s opening ceremonies took place on February 12, 2010. Rocky sat angrily on the sofa watching. On February 15, as Rocky sat down for dinner, we got a call from VGH telling us that a bed was available and to report to the hospital as soon as possible. Rocky never finished that meal. Nervously, we all arrived at VGH, Rocky was admitted and assigned his bed – on the 16th floor in the Leukemia (same family) ward, in isolation. Over the next seven days, Rocky endured extremely high doses of chemotherapy that were accompanied by painful side effects, and the complete wiping out of his bone marrow. On the 8th day, Rocky received a stem cell transplant, and endured more pain as the stem cells reproduced inside his bones.
It seems that the entire world watched the gold medal men’s hockey game between Canada and the USA. My brother, an avid hockey fan, was unable to wake up long enough to watch the game due to the sheer exhaustion of the entire procedure. He woke up literally about half a minute before Sidney Crosby’s game-winning goal. Weakly, he lifted his arm in the air, whispered “Sid the Kid” and then fell asleep again. The Olympics had ended when he was finally able to go for a walk around the ward with his IV pole and chest tube, around the ward. It was then that he realized that the kitchen window faced BC Place. He was disappointed that he didn’t know this before, because “I would have at least been able to see the fireworks.”
Three weeks after being admitted, Rocky was finally discharged.
In late April, Rocky once again went in for another PET scan, and once again, Rocky tested PET-positive for cancer. When Rocky was diagnosed, he had a 60-70% chance of beating the disease. After the first PET-positive result, his chances dropped to 20-25%. After the second PET-positive result, his chances dropped to less than 3%. Because of Rocky’s age, a team of oncologists overseeing his case decided that radical radiotherapy should be tried, and on May 19, Rocky started his radiation regimen that would be carried out 5 days a week for 4 weeks. He completed radiation on June 16 – Amar’s 8th anniversary and exactly one year since his diagnosis. Rocky looked great. He had energy, he was feeling healthy and strong, and his counts were all looking promising. For the first time, he took the stairs two at a time ahead of me after his last appointment. We were cautiously optimistic that he had beaten the disease. He was so sure that he had finally made it to remission that he immediately started going out with friends and even went and picked up some groceries.
On June 27th, though, I got a frantic call from my mom telling me that Rocky was extremely dizzy. To save time, I asked my parents to bring Rocky to Emergency and I would meet them there. When my dad pulled up, I was shocked to see that this young man, who I had just seen a couple of hours before, went from looking healthy, to being pale and barely able to walk. Once again, they took Rocky directly into acute care, ran a battery of tests, and the next day, despite his protests, transferred him back up to Oncology. Rocky begged the nurses to leave him in the hall in Emerg. He did not want to go back into the ward. He did not want to stay at the hospital.
The next morning, our world came crashing down around us. We were told that the cancer had spread and that there was nothing further that could be done. I watched speechlessly as my beautiful brother, 2 weeks shy of his 25th birthday, begged the doctor for something...anything. “I’ll do chemo for the rest of my life...there has to be SOMETHING you can do...are there any experimental options available?...can I go somewhere else?” But all of the doors closed quickly around my beautiful brother...and us.
A couple of days before his 25th birthday, Rocky experienced a “pain crisis.” He had had a similar pain the night before starting with his hands feeling like they were burning, but it subsided relatively quickly. On the day of the crisis, Rocky slowly said“my hands are burning again...” and before we knew it, his eyes widened to the size of saucers and he just started SCREAMING. Rocky had been on hydromorphone since his diagnosis the year before, but had never shown us how much pain he was in. For those of you who don’t know, 1mg of Hydromorphone is 8X more potent than 1mg of Morphine. Rocky was taking anywhere from 2-12mg of Hydromorphone orally for over a year without ever showing his pain. So the fact that he was screaming is testament to just how bad the pain must have been. He was SCREAMING, thrashing his arms and legs on his bed, tears streaming down his face, begging for help...screaming that this was beyond an emergency, and that he was on fire, and that he needed help...NOW. I don’t even remember how many times I ran between his room and the nurse’s station begging for help, but finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they started administering 12mg of Hydromorphone subcutaneously every 15 minutes until the pain began to subside. That night, Rocky was placed in a private room in the Palliative Care ward – a room reserved for patients facing imminent death.
Remarkably, despite doctors’ warnings that they would be surprised if Rocky lasted a week, my baby brother recovered and stabilized enough to be discharged on July 31. Because he was a Palliative patient though, he received home care and nurses and doctors would visit him at home to check on him. My mom and I became his in-house nurses, administering powerful painkillers mutiple times a day. His doctors were amazed to see how amazing he looked when they came to see him. They drew blood and sent it to the lab for testing, and then the doctor called and said that his red blood cell count was very low and that he would need a blood transfusion. We arranged for Rocky to report to hospital on the evening of August 7 so that he could be transfused overnight and discharged in the morning. Rocky began to feel dizzy though, so we took him in a little earlier than planned. We went straight up to the Palliative Care ward, where a new nurse was on duty. Rocky said that they should be expecting ‘Rocky’ to come in for a transfusion. The nurse confirmed that they were expecting him, and then she looked at him, me and back at him and said “so, is he here?” That is how good Rocky looked even as sick as he was.
They set Rocky up for the transfusion, and we prepared to be discharged the next morning. But the next morning, the doctor said that he seemed to have an infection, so maybe it will be a couple more days. Rocky looked at me knowingly. He had said to me a few weeks earlier that “I always come for something I think is minor, and they always end up keeping me longer.” He was right – once again, he thought he was coming for something minor but they were keeping him longer. After dinner that night, Rocky told me that there was a rash on his leg that was really bothering him. He lifted his pajama bottom to show me, and there was indeed a small rash the size of a quarter on his inner left thigh. I called the nurse, who came over and said that she would need to take a closer look at it, and asked Rocky to change from his bottoms into a hospital gown. Rocky attempted to stand up but once again, started screaming in pain. The nurse had to help him change. It was around that time that my parents, who had gone to the temple to pray for their son, called to see how he was doing. I started screaming that something was wrong. It was a gut feeling – something was seriously wrong. A rash should not hurt this badly.
My parents rushed back to the hospital and about an hour later, Rocky asked my dad for help getting to the washroom. As he was moving, I got a glimpse of this “rash” again. The “rash” had grown from the size of a quarter, to taking up his entire inner left thigh, and was deep purple in colour. Later that night, Rocky’s temperature shot up to 40 degrees, and his blood pressure crashed. We struggled to remain calm as we put cold compresses on his forehead all night and nurses rushed in and out with medications to force his blood pressure up. The next morning, our fears were confirmed. Rocky had developed an internal bleed, and his body would not be able to recover. Rocky’s blood had run out of platelets, and so he was unable to clot. A simple blood test had turned his entire arm purple. There was no way he could recover from an internal bleed of that magnitude. It was time to say our goodbyes.
After a week of watching him deteriorate, Rocky passed away on August 16, 2010, a month after “celebrating” his 25th birthday – a birthday he didn’t end up remembering because he was so pumped full of powerful painkillers.
I participated in the 2010 Ride with my Rockstar as my inspiration, with the hopes that he would join me on the 2011 Ride. His goal was to get better and join me on that journey, but unfortunately, things didn’t work out as planned, and in June 2011, a small team of us, called ROCKY’S ROCKSTARS, participated in the Ride with Rocky as our inspiration. It was a difficult Ride – physically and emotionally. Mother Nature turned the taps on us last year, and we started the Ride amidst a torrential downpour. We were soaked to the bone before the Ride even started, and by the time we crossed the border into Washington state, there wasn’t a dry sock around. Once the rain finally stopped, the wind picked up, and obviously blew against us forcing us to work against it. Last year, the Ride hired new caterers who dropped the ball in a big way. Not only did a number of riders (myself included) not get lunch because they ran out, but dinner fared no better. All this in addition to the emotionally gruelling nature of the Ride made for a LONG couple of days.
The Ride is no easy task. Over 2 days, we will ride over 200km from Vancouver through the Pacific Northwest to Seattle – rain or shine. It’s a physically gruelling challenge, but nothing that can be compared to the physically gruelling challenge that cancer patients suffer in trying to get to remission. It’s nothing compared to the emotionally gruelling challenge of dealing with internal thoughts and emotions during treatment, and sadly, when treatment fails. It’s nothing compared to the plight of sufferers of this terrible disease in all of its forms. Last year and this year, and likely every year that I participate in this Ride, I ask myself“why?” Why should I care about anyone else, if the one person dearest to me wasn’t able to beat it? Why should I fight for a cure for someone else, when that cure is going to come too late for my Rockstar? Why should I care? The answer is because Rocky wanted me to.
During the last week of Rocky’s life, he was unable to move because of the bleeding in his leg, and to prevent bed sores, the doctor ordered a special “air” bed for him. They had to shift Rocky from the regular bed onto the new one, but he was unable to move and his leg was in extreme pain. My dad, cousin and three nurses had the unfortunate task of dragging him from one bed to the other with a sheet. The entire ward could hear him screaming in pain. I stormed into the room, and at that point, Rocky, who could no longer open his eyes, was yelling “where’s my sister? No one’s allowed to touch me except my sister. Where’s my sister?” I held his hand and told him I was right there. He asked me to hold his hand and help him move. My brother had all of the faith in the world in me. He knew that I would go to the ends of the Earth for him. One of Rocky’s last requests was that we – his friends and family –carry on his battle against cancer after he was gone. I failed him once by not being able to save him, but I will not fail him again. I will keep on fighting, and I will keep on riding. It’s the least I can do.
I need your support. Nothing is possible without the support of our donors, and yours has been greatly appreciated in the past and I hope that I can count on your continued support in the future. This is a cause that knows no boundaries. It knows no limits. It affects the old and young, the rich and poor, the healthy and weak, male or female. Cancer does not discriminate. Most of us have been affected by this disease in one way or another and can understand to an extent how devastating it is. 2 in 5 of us will be diagnosed with cancer at some point in our lifetime. Scary thought, right?
Many people have criticized me for participating in the Ride and fighting for a cure because they feel that at this point, after this many years and countless millions of dollars, a cure should have been found and that I am just helping to fill bureaucratic pockets. There are conspiracy theories about pharmaceutical companies not wanting a cure to be found because there is too much to lose. I have even been told that a cure has been found but they won’t release it because of the financial impact it will have. I ride and I fight because that’s my karma. I am doing what I can in order to help others in the best way I know how. If pharmaceutical hotshots are withholding a cure and allowing countless thousands of people to die each year, they are committing murder as far as I am concerned. That is their karma.
I will continue to fight to keep my brother’s spirit alive, with the hopes that one day, another family will be saved from our fate– that another Rocky, will be able to live to be an old, old man after having battled and beaten this terrible disease.
Please help me make that dream a reality, and visit my website, www.conquercancer.ca/goto/RGK2012, and click on the “Donate Now” button.
Please, give courageously.
So without further delay, here it is:
I’ve waited a bit longer than usual to send out my annual request for donations, and the reason for that is simply that until now, I have been uncertain about whether or not I would be participating in this year’s Ride. A number of factors were swaying my mind against participation. Most of these factors are nothing new – guilt about being able to ride when my beautiful Rockstar wasn’t able to do the same, mixed feelings about participating in a fight for the cure, when that cure is going to come too late for my brother, dread of facing another Opening Ceremonies knowing how heart wrenching it will be, and most of all, the pain of reliving Rocky’s battle yet again. By now, most of you know that my baby brother, Bikramjit – better known as Rocky – lost his 14 month battle against cancer in August 2010. Many of you also know that Rocky is the second brother that I have lost. Our first brother, Amrinder – better known as Amar – passed away a few years before Rocky. This year, the Ride starts on what will be the 10th anniversary of Amar’s passing –June 16. I have struggled to decide whether to ride or spend that day with my parents. After an enormous amount of thinking and soul-searching, I have decided that neither of my brothers would want me moping around all day, and would most definitely prefer that I use that time to help others, and as such, I have finally decided that I will be participating in this year’s Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer.
Those of you who know me well will know how devastating Rocky’s loss has been for my family and I. Rocky was and still is, the dearest person to our hearts, and his untimely passing has left an irreparable hole in those hearts. The magnitude to which Rocky’s loss has shattered my parents and I cannot be expressed in words. The pain that we feel each and every moment of each and every day cannot be described. I can never explain to anyone the degree to which my life has been shattered by the loss of my beloved brothers. Amar’s passing was sudden – no one had time to think. But Rocky’s passing – Rocky’s passing was a long, torturous, physically and emotionally painful process during which we were all aware of what was happening – including Rocky. Knowing that Rocky was aware that he was dying, and was helpless torments us on a daily basis. Speaking only for myself, because I’m sure my parents’ pain is exponentially worse than mine, I can only describe this pain as someone clenching their fist around my heart. Even now, 18 months later, my stomach still drops to my feet at the thought of all that he endured. I still cry helplessly when I remember clothes shopping for his final journey and our final moments with him at his funeral. My head hurts to think of his final words and messages to us. My heart aches when I recall him asking to make sure his funeral was small, and just thinking about him imagining himself lying in a casket. My stomach hurts to think about what he must have been thinking. Just yesterday, as I passed by the hospital on the way home, I flashed back to the day that we left the hospital after he had left us, and it took nearly everything out of me to prevent myself from breaking down while driving. Life is not easy – everyone knows that. But our lives have gotten so much harder with the loss of my amazing little brother. My brother was an amazing young man, who deserved far better than he got. I don’t think I will ever be able to come to terms with it, but I can use it to spread awareness, and work to fulfill my brother’s wishes. I was his voice then, and I will continue to be his voice now.
On June 16, 2009 (Amar’s 7th anniversary), my beautiful baby brother, one month shy of his 24thbirthday, was suddenly diagnosed with Diffuse Large B-Cell Non Hodgkin’s Lymphoma – a particularly aggressive, yet treatable, blood cancer. What started off as a small stomach ache escalated into excruciating pain day in and day out. Because he had just started a new job with the RCMP three weeks prior, Rocky refused to take time off of work to see a doctor. Instead he reported to work and carried out his duties each and every day, and then came home and curled up in the fetal position, adamant that he would be fine, and refusing help. On his first compressed day off, Rocky finally went to see his doctor, who ordered X-rays and once she got the results, told him to immediately report to Emergency at SMH for what appeared to be pancreatitis. Little did we know that it would be 42 days, countless tests and biopsies, endless tears and prayers, a round of chemotherapy and one very depressing birthday before Rocky would be able to return home. Rocky went to hospital weighing nearly 200 lbs. He came home weighing 150.
Six weeks later, Rocky experienced an intense headache. When conventional medication failed to provide relief, we rushed him back to Emergency where we were advised that he had contracted meningitis due to his compromised immune system. He spent 10 days in hospital before he was finally allowed to come home again. Two weeks after this, Rocky had his first CT scan since starting chemotherapy. The CT scans prior to treatment had yielded alarming results. Rocky’s internal organs had malignant masses all over them –including an 8cm tumour right in the centre of his chest. Tissue in his trunk was showing signs of necrosis, and his lungs were beginning to deflate. The CT scan that was conducted after 4 of 6 sessions of chemotherapy demonstrated that all of the existing tumours had shrunk in size or had disappeared entirely. But as was the case throughout his battle, the good news came with bad news as well. One new mass had grown on Rocky’s liver since starting chemotherapy. As we would find out much later, with the growth of that new mass, Rocky’s chances of survival were largely wiped out. On his oncologists’ advice, Rocky completed the remaining two sessions of chemotherapy and went in for a PET scan in late November. The results of that scan came back on December 3 – on what would have been Amar’s 27th birthday. Rocky tested PET-positive for cancer. The battle wasn’t over. That night, as he sat quietly in front of the TV, my mom went over and gently put her hand on his head. We watched helplessly as for the first time since his diagnosis, tears rolled down his cheeks.
He was immediately set up for an appointment with a haematologist at Vancouver General Hospital and the process was started for extreme dose chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant.
Like his friends, Rocky had looked forward to the Vancouver Olympics since they were announced. Afterall, it’s not everyday that the Olympics come to your hometown. As the years passed by, Rocky’s excitement increased. But in December 2009, Rocky was told that he would not be able to take in any of the festivities related to the Olympics, because he could not risk infection. So while his friends and thousands upon thousands of people enjoyed pre-Games festivities, my brother sat quietly on the sofa at home, watching it all unfold on TV. Vancouver 2010’s opening ceremonies took place on February 12, 2010. Rocky sat angrily on the sofa watching. On February 15, as Rocky sat down for dinner, we got a call from VGH telling us that a bed was available and to report to the hospital as soon as possible. Rocky never finished that meal. Nervously, we all arrived at VGH, Rocky was admitted and assigned his bed – on the 16th floor in the Leukemia (same family) ward, in isolation. Over the next seven days, Rocky endured extremely high doses of chemotherapy that were accompanied by painful side effects, and the complete wiping out of his bone marrow. On the 8th day, Rocky received a stem cell transplant, and endured more pain as the stem cells reproduced inside his bones.
It seems that the entire world watched the gold medal men’s hockey game between Canada and the USA. My brother, an avid hockey fan, was unable to wake up long enough to watch the game due to the sheer exhaustion of the entire procedure. He woke up literally about half a minute before Sidney Crosby’s game-winning goal. Weakly, he lifted his arm in the air, whispered “Sid the Kid” and then fell asleep again. The Olympics had ended when he was finally able to go for a walk around the ward with his IV pole and chest tube, around the ward. It was then that he realized that the kitchen window faced BC Place. He was disappointed that he didn’t know this before, because “I would have at least been able to see the fireworks.”
Three weeks after being admitted, Rocky was finally discharged.
In late April, Rocky once again went in for another PET scan, and once again, Rocky tested PET-positive for cancer. When Rocky was diagnosed, he had a 60-70% chance of beating the disease. After the first PET-positive result, his chances dropped to 20-25%. After the second PET-positive result, his chances dropped to less than 3%. Because of Rocky’s age, a team of oncologists overseeing his case decided that radical radiotherapy should be tried, and on May 19, Rocky started his radiation regimen that would be carried out 5 days a week for 4 weeks. He completed radiation on June 16 – Amar’s 8th anniversary and exactly one year since his diagnosis. Rocky looked great. He had energy, he was feeling healthy and strong, and his counts were all looking promising. For the first time, he took the stairs two at a time ahead of me after his last appointment. We were cautiously optimistic that he had beaten the disease. He was so sure that he had finally made it to remission that he immediately started going out with friends and even went and picked up some groceries.
On June 27th, though, I got a frantic call from my mom telling me that Rocky was extremely dizzy. To save time, I asked my parents to bring Rocky to Emergency and I would meet them there. When my dad pulled up, I was shocked to see that this young man, who I had just seen a couple of hours before, went from looking healthy, to being pale and barely able to walk. Once again, they took Rocky directly into acute care, ran a battery of tests, and the next day, despite his protests, transferred him back up to Oncology. Rocky begged the nurses to leave him in the hall in Emerg. He did not want to go back into the ward. He did not want to stay at the hospital.
The next morning, our world came crashing down around us. We were told that the cancer had spread and that there was nothing further that could be done. I watched speechlessly as my beautiful brother, 2 weeks shy of his 25th birthday, begged the doctor for something...anything. “I’ll do chemo for the rest of my life...there has to be SOMETHING you can do...are there any experimental options available?...can I go somewhere else?” But all of the doors closed quickly around my beautiful brother...and us.
A couple of days before his 25th birthday, Rocky experienced a “pain crisis.” He had had a similar pain the night before starting with his hands feeling like they were burning, but it subsided relatively quickly. On the day of the crisis, Rocky slowly said“my hands are burning again...” and before we knew it, his eyes widened to the size of saucers and he just started SCREAMING. Rocky had been on hydromorphone since his diagnosis the year before, but had never shown us how much pain he was in. For those of you who don’t know, 1mg of Hydromorphone is 8X more potent than 1mg of Morphine. Rocky was taking anywhere from 2-12mg of Hydromorphone orally for over a year without ever showing his pain. So the fact that he was screaming is testament to just how bad the pain must have been. He was SCREAMING, thrashing his arms and legs on his bed, tears streaming down his face, begging for help...screaming that this was beyond an emergency, and that he was on fire, and that he needed help...NOW. I don’t even remember how many times I ran between his room and the nurse’s station begging for help, but finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they started administering 12mg of Hydromorphone subcutaneously every 15 minutes until the pain began to subside. That night, Rocky was placed in a private room in the Palliative Care ward – a room reserved for patients facing imminent death.
Remarkably, despite doctors’ warnings that they would be surprised if Rocky lasted a week, my baby brother recovered and stabilized enough to be discharged on July 31. Because he was a Palliative patient though, he received home care and nurses and doctors would visit him at home to check on him. My mom and I became his in-house nurses, administering powerful painkillers mutiple times a day. His doctors were amazed to see how amazing he looked when they came to see him. They drew blood and sent it to the lab for testing, and then the doctor called and said that his red blood cell count was very low and that he would need a blood transfusion. We arranged for Rocky to report to hospital on the evening of August 7 so that he could be transfused overnight and discharged in the morning. Rocky began to feel dizzy though, so we took him in a little earlier than planned. We went straight up to the Palliative Care ward, where a new nurse was on duty. Rocky said that they should be expecting ‘Rocky’ to come in for a transfusion. The nurse confirmed that they were expecting him, and then she looked at him, me and back at him and said “so, is he here?” That is how good Rocky looked even as sick as he was.
They set Rocky up for the transfusion, and we prepared to be discharged the next morning. But the next morning, the doctor said that he seemed to have an infection, so maybe it will be a couple more days. Rocky looked at me knowingly. He had said to me a few weeks earlier that “I always come for something I think is minor, and they always end up keeping me longer.” He was right – once again, he thought he was coming for something minor but they were keeping him longer. After dinner that night, Rocky told me that there was a rash on his leg that was really bothering him. He lifted his pajama bottom to show me, and there was indeed a small rash the size of a quarter on his inner left thigh. I called the nurse, who came over and said that she would need to take a closer look at it, and asked Rocky to change from his bottoms into a hospital gown. Rocky attempted to stand up but once again, started screaming in pain. The nurse had to help him change. It was around that time that my parents, who had gone to the temple to pray for their son, called to see how he was doing. I started screaming that something was wrong. It was a gut feeling – something was seriously wrong. A rash should not hurt this badly.
My parents rushed back to the hospital and about an hour later, Rocky asked my dad for help getting to the washroom. As he was moving, I got a glimpse of this “rash” again. The “rash” had grown from the size of a quarter, to taking up his entire inner left thigh, and was deep purple in colour. Later that night, Rocky’s temperature shot up to 40 degrees, and his blood pressure crashed. We struggled to remain calm as we put cold compresses on his forehead all night and nurses rushed in and out with medications to force his blood pressure up. The next morning, our fears were confirmed. Rocky had developed an internal bleed, and his body would not be able to recover. Rocky’s blood had run out of platelets, and so he was unable to clot. A simple blood test had turned his entire arm purple. There was no way he could recover from an internal bleed of that magnitude. It was time to say our goodbyes.
After a week of watching him deteriorate, Rocky passed away on August 16, 2010, a month after “celebrating” his 25th birthday – a birthday he didn’t end up remembering because he was so pumped full of powerful painkillers.
I participated in the 2010 Ride with my Rockstar as my inspiration, with the hopes that he would join me on the 2011 Ride. His goal was to get better and join me on that journey, but unfortunately, things didn’t work out as planned, and in June 2011, a small team of us, called ROCKY’S ROCKSTARS, participated in the Ride with Rocky as our inspiration. It was a difficult Ride – physically and emotionally. Mother Nature turned the taps on us last year, and we started the Ride amidst a torrential downpour. We were soaked to the bone before the Ride even started, and by the time we crossed the border into Washington state, there wasn’t a dry sock around. Once the rain finally stopped, the wind picked up, and obviously blew against us forcing us to work against it. Last year, the Ride hired new caterers who dropped the ball in a big way. Not only did a number of riders (myself included) not get lunch because they ran out, but dinner fared no better. All this in addition to the emotionally gruelling nature of the Ride made for a LONG couple of days.
The Ride is no easy task. Over 2 days, we will ride over 200km from Vancouver through the Pacific Northwest to Seattle – rain or shine. It’s a physically gruelling challenge, but nothing that can be compared to the physically gruelling challenge that cancer patients suffer in trying to get to remission. It’s nothing compared to the emotionally gruelling challenge of dealing with internal thoughts and emotions during treatment, and sadly, when treatment fails. It’s nothing compared to the plight of sufferers of this terrible disease in all of its forms. Last year and this year, and likely every year that I participate in this Ride, I ask myself“why?” Why should I care about anyone else, if the one person dearest to me wasn’t able to beat it? Why should I fight for a cure for someone else, when that cure is going to come too late for my Rockstar? Why should I care? The answer is because Rocky wanted me to.
During the last week of Rocky’s life, he was unable to move because of the bleeding in his leg, and to prevent bed sores, the doctor ordered a special “air” bed for him. They had to shift Rocky from the regular bed onto the new one, but he was unable to move and his leg was in extreme pain. My dad, cousin and three nurses had the unfortunate task of dragging him from one bed to the other with a sheet. The entire ward could hear him screaming in pain. I stormed into the room, and at that point, Rocky, who could no longer open his eyes, was yelling “where’s my sister? No one’s allowed to touch me except my sister. Where’s my sister?” I held his hand and told him I was right there. He asked me to hold his hand and help him move. My brother had all of the faith in the world in me. He knew that I would go to the ends of the Earth for him. One of Rocky’s last requests was that we – his friends and family –carry on his battle against cancer after he was gone. I failed him once by not being able to save him, but I will not fail him again. I will keep on fighting, and I will keep on riding. It’s the least I can do.
I need your support. Nothing is possible without the support of our donors, and yours has been greatly appreciated in the past and I hope that I can count on your continued support in the future. This is a cause that knows no boundaries. It knows no limits. It affects the old and young, the rich and poor, the healthy and weak, male or female. Cancer does not discriminate. Most of us have been affected by this disease in one way or another and can understand to an extent how devastating it is. 2 in 5 of us will be diagnosed with cancer at some point in our lifetime. Scary thought, right?
Many people have criticized me for participating in the Ride and fighting for a cure because they feel that at this point, after this many years and countless millions of dollars, a cure should have been found and that I am just helping to fill bureaucratic pockets. There are conspiracy theories about pharmaceutical companies not wanting a cure to be found because there is too much to lose. I have even been told that a cure has been found but they won’t release it because of the financial impact it will have. I ride and I fight because that’s my karma. I am doing what I can in order to help others in the best way I know how. If pharmaceutical hotshots are withholding a cure and allowing countless thousands of people to die each year, they are committing murder as far as I am concerned. That is their karma.
I will continue to fight to keep my brother’s spirit alive, with the hopes that one day, another family will be saved from our fate– that another Rocky, will be able to live to be an old, old man after having battled and beaten this terrible disease.
Please help me make that dream a reality, and visit my website, www.conquercancer.ca/goto/RGK2012, and click on the “Donate Now” button.
Please, give courageously.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Faaaaaack!!
Well, I almost made it a month without something triggering uncontrollable anger/hate/hurt in me again. These are getting farther and farther apart, so I suppose I'm making progress, but it sure as hell doesn't feel like it today.
Let me start by saying that, in general, I don't like people. In fact, the more I deal with people, the more I like my brother's dog - Magic. He is loyal, always happy to see me, never talks nonsense back (other than the occassional nip at my hand, but I'm usually asking for it) and is appreciative of all that I do. That's a lot more than can be said for some people in my life. And the more I deal with these people, the more I hate my life. Yes, this is going to be a major Debbie Downer kind of entry, so be warned - if you don't want to put up with my whining or my negative attitude, don't read any further. And if you choose to read on, then please don' t tell me how horrible my attitude is - believe me, I'm already aware of it.
So what do I hate about my life? Let's count shall we?
1. I have outlived both of my siblings, leaving me virtually without someone "my own" that I can talk to and know will always be in my corner, no matter what.
2. My parents have outlived 2/3 of their children, leaving a huge amount of responsibility on my shoulders. If I had been an only child from the beginning, it wouldn't be this hard. Being forced into the role of only child at this late a stage in my parents life has its challenges.
3. I cannot seem to "move on" after losing my Rockstar. I know it's been 14.5 months, and that I should be getting "used to" the idea of him not being here anymore, but I'm not. Sheer mention of his name is pretty much enough to throw me into a downward spiral. It doesn't help that while I deal with the nightmare during the day, I relive his illness and his passing often in my dreams as well.
4. It seems that every time I look forward to something, it is ruined by a random act of stupidness. I'm not even kidding - something always happens. If not the day of, which is most often, then definitely the day after. For example, on Saturday October 15, I had a great day. I was awarded a scholarship from CGA-BC, I attended the 2010 Convocation to receive this scholarship, followed by dinner. Afterwards, I took my certificate to my parents' house and spent the night there where we all went to bed in pretty good spirits. The next day, I spent most of the day in Emerg with an insane migraine that we couldn't control at home. Prime example right there. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just not meant to be happy.
There are other things I that I dislike about my life, but those are common issues that I'm sure everyone deals with. The issues described however, are the ones that I absolutely hate.
So, on the flip side, what do I love about my life?
Errr....
Um....
As ridiculous as this may sound - right now, I honestly cannot think of a single thing that I love about my life. Nice eh?
I know that most people will say that this is completely absurd, and that I still have so much to be thankful for, and that they're SURE that there has to be something about my life that I absolutely love - but I don't think there is.
A friend of mine recently had the following conversation:
Friend: And somehow, I have to thank all of the tragedy that came this year- because as horrible as it felt, as hard as it crushed me, it had to happen to push growth upon me, it couldn't have happened any other way. Its always a hard thing to admit at the time, but after the lesson is learned- it opens our eyes to things that we were blind to previously. That's the beauty of life, ever evolving, ever changing, hard to predict, though always beholding some truth & reasons to its lessons. Gotta love it.
Me: Well said, and so true. I'd rather be an idiot though - tragedies suck. :( ♥
Friend: My dearest Rupi, tragedies teach us many things- there is good that comes from each thing bad/ you can't have a flower without the dirt, & some of the most beautiful flowers grow in the deepest dirt/ in the darkest conditions. ♥ Stay strong Rupi, I admire you very much.
Me: Tragedies do indeed teach us a lot. It's true. I was a w..r..e..c..k a few months after Rocky passed away (it was bad...just trust me on this one) and my friend demanded that I go get myself checked out. I couldn't get in to see my own doctor, so I went to Rocky's family doctor - he knew me well because I went to a lot of appointments on my Rockstar's behalf because his immune system was too weak to sit in a waiting room. Anyways, that doctor sat with me for half an hour and said something that stuck with me: "It sucks, and it's absolutely not fair, but think of this...those 60, 70, 80 year old people that you see and think are so wise didn't just get that way - they had to go through some tough experiences that made them that way." TRU DAT. When I look at myself, I see someone way beyond 32 years in terms of life experiences, and someone who has become very different from the friends she grew up with not too long ago. I have only these tough tough life experiences to thank for that. It's strange - on the one hand I know that I'm wiser than some people my age, but on the other hand, I know that I'll never get to have careless fun as those people get to. Ah tragedies...what to make of them.
Friend: Rupi, you can take those tragedies and turn them into fuel for something amazing. As a nurse I have been there to comfort patients as they die, all varying in ages- & I'll never have the answers/ I'll never know why it happens to... everyone differently- but I know that everyday is a chance to laugh, to appreciate every single thing that we have: whether its something as simple as having sight, having the ability to touch, feel, run- seeing things that way brings nothing happiness to my exsistence. You are wiser & stronger for what you have endured- keep laughing & being happy, do things that you've always dreamed of doing, you're still here & each day is a chance to heal that much more, to take chances. Everybody dies Rupi, but not everyone truly lives to the core of their being. ♥
Me: You are very wise my friend. And everything that you say makes perfect sense. I hope that there does come a day when I truly feel that I deserve to at least be happy. Sadly, right now, without my beautiful brothers, I don't feel like I can be...or should be. ♥
Friend: How can you not feel that you deserve to be happy my dearest Rupi??!!! Look at yourself in the mirror everyday & tell yourself "I am a good person & I deserve to be happy, my brothers would want that for me, I'm going to live my life the way that they would want me to." and tell yourself that over & over again- until it sticks Rupi, because its the truth/ you shouldn't be punished for something that was beyond your control, I never knew your brothers- but I can guarantee that they would want you to be happy Rupi- they would not want you to suffer. You have the chance to be anything you want, you are still here & you have people that love you and believe in you. Your brothers have never left you Rupi, their blood is in your veins, your share DNA, they are still with you- in every cell of your being & they will always be with you. They will never leave you. ♥
Me: ♥
So my friend pretty much made me feel like a heel, because she's right. I know she's right. In a lot of ways, I am blessed, despite all that has happened. So why can't I snap out of this feeling of despair and tell myself that I deserve to be happy and that my brothers would be happiest seeing me happy?
Maybe I'm being too easy on myself by saying that I have too much going on. It's easy to say that I have to take care of myself before I can take care of anyone else. It's not easy though. How can I be selfish when my parents have been dealt with the shittiest cards I have ever seen? How can I tell them I have to take care of myself before I can take care of them? How can I put my own selfish needs before their real needs? And why should I feel that I have a right to be happy? I certainly don't feel that I have a right to be happy - why do I have that right when my younger brothers didn't? Why should I live life if they never got a chance to? The day Rocky was diagnosed, he said that he still had so much to do and mentioned that he wanted to see the Northern Lights. To be honest, I didn't even know what the Northern Lights were, so I googled it. Amazing! He wanted to travel - to see Vegas, New York, Europe. So the plan was for Rocky to get healthy, and I would gift him a trip to Alaska to fulfill his dream of seeing the Northern Lights, and then one by one, we would make all of his other dreams come true. The plan was that Rocky would get better and we would take a road trip to our hometown of Sparwood - a town we left behind 15 years ago. The plan was that Rocky would get better and we would resume our lives, with a new realization of what is important and what's not, with a new relationship and a sibling bond that no one else would ever be able to understand. The plan was that Rocky would get better...period.
But Rocky didn't get better. So how can I now want to see Vegas, New York and Europe? All of these places I wanted to visit well before Rocky was diagnosed. But since his passing, I feel as if I would somehow be deceiving him by travelling to these places. My own guilt gets in the way - why should I be able to see these places if he wasn't able to? Then there's the biggest question of all that torments me regularly "Why am I still living and he's not?" Why am I still living? Seriously, the heartache that I deal with every minute of every day is sometimes too much to bear. I would much rather have never been born than to deal with this sort of pain.
Yeah what doesn't kill me will make me stronger - the question is do I want to be stronger. At this very moment, the answer is no. I'd much rather have been killed instead.
And while we're at it - how is that people go to sleep and don't wake up? I really wish I knew the secret to that question - what did these beautiful, healthy, happy kids do to just not wake up one day? But knowing that and then acting on it would be suicide wouldn't it? Can't do that. My problem is compounded exponentially by my need to please. Committing suicide would result in people saying that I was wrong to have taken such a drastic step. God forbid anyone ever say anything negative about me.
I dunno peeps. Life is hard, and I hate it. I'd much rather be an immature idiot who knows nothing of life and is oblivious to hardship. Learning lessons this way just blows.
Anyways, I'm not going to proofread this before posting, so I'm pretty sure I'm all over the map on this one. I don't even remember where I started but just don't care enough tonight to go and see. That's all for now...
Let me start by saying that, in general, I don't like people. In fact, the more I deal with people, the more I like my brother's dog - Magic. He is loyal, always happy to see me, never talks nonsense back (other than the occassional nip at my hand, but I'm usually asking for it) and is appreciative of all that I do. That's a lot more than can be said for some people in my life. And the more I deal with these people, the more I hate my life. Yes, this is going to be a major Debbie Downer kind of entry, so be warned - if you don't want to put up with my whining or my negative attitude, don't read any further. And if you choose to read on, then please don' t tell me how horrible my attitude is - believe me, I'm already aware of it.
So what do I hate about my life? Let's count shall we?
1. I have outlived both of my siblings, leaving me virtually without someone "my own" that I can talk to and know will always be in my corner, no matter what.
2. My parents have outlived 2/3 of their children, leaving a huge amount of responsibility on my shoulders. If I had been an only child from the beginning, it wouldn't be this hard. Being forced into the role of only child at this late a stage in my parents life has its challenges.
3. I cannot seem to "move on" after losing my Rockstar. I know it's been 14.5 months, and that I should be getting "used to" the idea of him not being here anymore, but I'm not. Sheer mention of his name is pretty much enough to throw me into a downward spiral. It doesn't help that while I deal with the nightmare during the day, I relive his illness and his passing often in my dreams as well.
4. It seems that every time I look forward to something, it is ruined by a random act of stupidness. I'm not even kidding - something always happens. If not the day of, which is most often, then definitely the day after. For example, on Saturday October 15, I had a great day. I was awarded a scholarship from CGA-BC, I attended the 2010 Convocation to receive this scholarship, followed by dinner. Afterwards, I took my certificate to my parents' house and spent the night there where we all went to bed in pretty good spirits. The next day, I spent most of the day in Emerg with an insane migraine that we couldn't control at home. Prime example right there. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just not meant to be happy.
There are other things I that I dislike about my life, but those are common issues that I'm sure everyone deals with. The issues described however, are the ones that I absolutely hate.
So, on the flip side, what do I love about my life?
Errr....
Um....
As ridiculous as this may sound - right now, I honestly cannot think of a single thing that I love about my life. Nice eh?
I know that most people will say that this is completely absurd, and that I still have so much to be thankful for, and that they're SURE that there has to be something about my life that I absolutely love - but I don't think there is.
A friend of mine recently had the following conversation:
Friend: And somehow, I have to thank all of the tragedy that came this year- because as horrible as it felt, as hard as it crushed me, it had to happen to push growth upon me, it couldn't have happened any other way. Its always a hard thing to admit at the time, but after the lesson is learned- it opens our eyes to things that we were blind to previously. That's the beauty of life, ever evolving, ever changing, hard to predict, though always beholding some truth & reasons to its lessons. Gotta love it.
Me: Well said, and so true. I'd rather be an idiot though - tragedies suck. :( ♥
Friend: My dearest Rupi, tragedies teach us many things- there is good that comes from each thing bad/ you can't have a flower without the dirt, & some of the most beautiful flowers grow in the deepest dirt/ in the darkest conditions. ♥ Stay strong Rupi, I admire you very much.
Me: Tragedies do indeed teach us a lot. It's true. I was a w..r..e..c..k a few months after Rocky passed away (it was bad...just trust me on this one) and my friend demanded that I go get myself checked out. I couldn't get in to see my own doctor, so I went to Rocky's family doctor - he knew me well because I went to a lot of appointments on my Rockstar's behalf because his immune system was too weak to sit in a waiting room. Anyways, that doctor sat with me for half an hour and said something that stuck with me: "It sucks, and it's absolutely not fair, but think of this...those 60, 70, 80 year old people that you see and think are so wise didn't just get that way - they had to go through some tough experiences that made them that way." TRU DAT. When I look at myself, I see someone way beyond 32 years in terms of life experiences, and someone who has become very different from the friends she grew up with not too long ago. I have only these tough tough life experiences to thank for that. It's strange - on the one hand I know that I'm wiser than some people my age, but on the other hand, I know that I'll never get to have careless fun as those people get to. Ah tragedies...what to make of them.
Friend: Rupi, you can take those tragedies and turn them into fuel for something amazing. As a nurse I have been there to comfort patients as they die, all varying in ages- & I'll never have the answers/ I'll never know why it happens to... everyone differently- but I know that everyday is a chance to laugh, to appreciate every single thing that we have: whether its something as simple as having sight, having the ability to touch, feel, run- seeing things that way brings nothing happiness to my exsistence. You are wiser & stronger for what you have endured- keep laughing & being happy, do things that you've always dreamed of doing, you're still here & each day is a chance to heal that much more, to take chances. Everybody dies Rupi, but not everyone truly lives to the core of their being. ♥
Me: You are very wise my friend. And everything that you say makes perfect sense. I hope that there does come a day when I truly feel that I deserve to at least be happy. Sadly, right now, without my beautiful brothers, I don't feel like I can be...or should be. ♥
Friend: How can you not feel that you deserve to be happy my dearest Rupi??!!! Look at yourself in the mirror everyday & tell yourself "I am a good person & I deserve to be happy, my brothers would want that for me, I'm going to live my life the way that they would want me to." and tell yourself that over & over again- until it sticks Rupi, because its the truth/ you shouldn't be punished for something that was beyond your control, I never knew your brothers- but I can guarantee that they would want you to be happy Rupi- they would not want you to suffer. You have the chance to be anything you want, you are still here & you have people that love you and believe in you. Your brothers have never left you Rupi, their blood is in your veins, your share DNA, they are still with you- in every cell of your being & they will always be with you. They will never leave you. ♥
Me: ♥
So my friend pretty much made me feel like a heel, because she's right. I know she's right. In a lot of ways, I am blessed, despite all that has happened. So why can't I snap out of this feeling of despair and tell myself that I deserve to be happy and that my brothers would be happiest seeing me happy?
Maybe I'm being too easy on myself by saying that I have too much going on. It's easy to say that I have to take care of myself before I can take care of anyone else. It's not easy though. How can I be selfish when my parents have been dealt with the shittiest cards I have ever seen? How can I tell them I have to take care of myself before I can take care of them? How can I put my own selfish needs before their real needs? And why should I feel that I have a right to be happy? I certainly don't feel that I have a right to be happy - why do I have that right when my younger brothers didn't? Why should I live life if they never got a chance to? The day Rocky was diagnosed, he said that he still had so much to do and mentioned that he wanted to see the Northern Lights. To be honest, I didn't even know what the Northern Lights were, so I googled it. Amazing! He wanted to travel - to see Vegas, New York, Europe. So the plan was for Rocky to get healthy, and I would gift him a trip to Alaska to fulfill his dream of seeing the Northern Lights, and then one by one, we would make all of his other dreams come true. The plan was that Rocky would get better and we would take a road trip to our hometown of Sparwood - a town we left behind 15 years ago. The plan was that Rocky would get better and we would resume our lives, with a new realization of what is important and what's not, with a new relationship and a sibling bond that no one else would ever be able to understand. The plan was that Rocky would get better...period.
But Rocky didn't get better. So how can I now want to see Vegas, New York and Europe? All of these places I wanted to visit well before Rocky was diagnosed. But since his passing, I feel as if I would somehow be deceiving him by travelling to these places. My own guilt gets in the way - why should I be able to see these places if he wasn't able to? Then there's the biggest question of all that torments me regularly "Why am I still living and he's not?" Why am I still living? Seriously, the heartache that I deal with every minute of every day is sometimes too much to bear. I would much rather have never been born than to deal with this sort of pain.
Yeah what doesn't kill me will make me stronger - the question is do I want to be stronger. At this very moment, the answer is no. I'd much rather have been killed instead.
And while we're at it - how is that people go to sleep and don't wake up? I really wish I knew the secret to that question - what did these beautiful, healthy, happy kids do to just not wake up one day? But knowing that and then acting on it would be suicide wouldn't it? Can't do that. My problem is compounded exponentially by my need to please. Committing suicide would result in people saying that I was wrong to have taken such a drastic step. God forbid anyone ever say anything negative about me
I dunno peeps. Life is hard, and I hate it. I'd much rather be an immature idiot who knows nothing of life and is oblivious to hardship. Learning lessons this way just blows.
Anyways, I'm not going to proofread this before posting, so I'm pretty sure I'm all over the map on this one. I don't even remember where I started but just don't care enough tonight to go and see. That's all for now...
Friday, September 16, 2011
Relationships
What is it about relationships that draw us close to one another. What defines a relationship? In order to feel close with someone, to share their joys and sorrows, is it necessary for that relationship to have a title?
In late April/early May, I returned from California following my young cousin's tragic and sudden passing. While in California experiencing yet another tragedy in my family, I, for the first time, had an opportunity to meet my aunt's side of the family. My baby brother, Rocky, who as most of you are aware, passed away in August 2010, always told me how much fun he had in California when he travelled there for our cousins' weddings. I saw the pictures and it did indeed seem that he had a great time. He loved my aunt's family, who I will call "the Californians." Having never met them, and never having had extended family around while I was growing up, I didn't understand what he felt and why he was always so eager to return to the Golden State.
Having gone down in April/May though, I got a glimpse of the love that Rocky referred to. Not only was everyone unbelievably loving, but they offered more support than some of my own family has. I felt more at home with them than I often did with my own family. Despite the terrible circumstances that took me to California, I returned home with the desire to go back. This must have been what Rocky was talking about.
School and work didn't allow me to go back until earlier this month. My purpose in going this time was to see my aunt and uncle, my beautiful cousin who lost a brother when my cousin passed away, and my darling sister in law, who lost her husband at a painfully young age. These were the people I wanted to see and spend my time with. These were the people that I knew understood my own pain better than anyone else. Seeing them and spending time with them was my priority. Having lost two brothers, I almost feel that I have a responsibility to try and take care of my extended family. At the same time however, I felt drawn to my aunt's family as well. Was it just the emotions surrounding April's tragedy that drew me to them? Or were they really that cool? It didn't take long for me to find an answer to my question. I started getting messages the morning after I booked my flight, and one crazy yahoo started planning my trip to Yuba City before I even knew what was going on.
When I got to California though, all of that love that I had received in April came flooding back. How is it possible for people to be so kind? It's still very foreign to me. I, myself, feel that I am amongst the more selfish people in the world, so I really don't understand how anyone can accept someone else so unconditionally the way the Californians accepted me. The entire week that I was there, never once did I feel that I was an outsider. Never once did I feel that I didn't belong. I received so much love (all packed around my midsection...gawd, still full from all the love!), that I felt that I had known them forever, when in fact this was my first time actually spending time with them.
Then comes the guilt. While my hilarious cousin was among us, I never had an opportunity to go to California and spend time with the family. And now that he's gone, I've gone out of my way to go see everyone. I feel so terrible about that. Some days I can actually feel his hurt even though he's not here. I wish I had told him how much he meant to me. I hope that he knows how much I love and miss him. In many ways I feel worse about losing my cousin than I do about losing my own brothers. My family knew that luck was not on our side. We got this harsh reality check when my brother Amar passed away in 2002. Life since 2002 has been difficult - very difficult. Life just became very different after Amar passed away. And then Rocky was diagnosed with cancer in June 2009 and passed away in August 2010. I shouldn't even be surprised at the sheer bad luck that is my life. I should have almost expected it. We just never had luck on our side. But my cousin's family. Wow. Their life was perfect. Both of my cousins were married. They both had wonderful spouses. My aunt and uncle were looking forward to grandchildren soon, enjoying life to the fullest, and all of a sudden their son gets ripped away from them, changing their life for the worse forever. I know what it's like to lose a family member, and maybe that's why it breaks my heart so much. I am seeing what their life was like, and what it has become. It hurts me so deeply when I think about how their laughing family has been destroyed by tragedy. My family was already destroyed, and became more destroyed after Rocky passed...but my aunt and uncle...their lives have only just changed. I find some solace in the fact that the Californians are all near my aunt and uncle and can support them to the best of their ability whenever they need. They're such an amazing group of people. If they can make me feel so loved, I can only imagine how they must make my aunt and uncle feel.
Relationships. They're complicated. And sometimes, you find your biggest support systems or your biggest allies in the most unlikely of places. I know that I have gained some wonderful friends in getting to know the Californians, and I find myself missing them already - and I've only been back a week. Sigh.
In late April/early May, I returned from California following my young cousin's tragic and sudden passing. While in California experiencing yet another tragedy in my family, I, for the first time, had an opportunity to meet my aunt's side of the family. My baby brother, Rocky, who as most of you are aware, passed away in August 2010, always told me how much fun he had in California when he travelled there for our cousins' weddings. I saw the pictures and it did indeed seem that he had a great time. He loved my aunt's family, who I will call "the Californians." Having never met them, and never having had extended family around while I was growing up, I didn't understand what he felt and why he was always so eager to return to the Golden State.
Having gone down in April/May though, I got a glimpse of the love that Rocky referred to. Not only was everyone unbelievably loving, but they offered more support than some of my own family has. I felt more at home with them than I often did with my own family. Despite the terrible circumstances that took me to California, I returned home with the desire to go back. This must have been what Rocky was talking about.
School and work didn't allow me to go back until earlier this month. My purpose in going this time was to see my aunt and uncle, my beautiful cousin who lost a brother when my cousin passed away, and my darling sister in law, who lost her husband at a painfully young age. These were the people I wanted to see and spend my time with. These were the people that I knew understood my own pain better than anyone else. Seeing them and spending time with them was my priority. Having lost two brothers, I almost feel that I have a responsibility to try and take care of my extended family. At the same time however, I felt drawn to my aunt's family as well. Was it just the emotions surrounding April's tragedy that drew me to them? Or were they really that cool? It didn't take long for me to find an answer to my question. I started getting messages the morning after I booked my flight, and one crazy yahoo started planning my trip to Yuba City before I even knew what was going on.
When I got to California though, all of that love that I had received in April came flooding back. How is it possible for people to be so kind? It's still very foreign to me. I, myself, feel that I am amongst the more selfish people in the world, so I really don't understand how anyone can accept someone else so unconditionally the way the Californians accepted me. The entire week that I was there, never once did I feel that I was an outsider. Never once did I feel that I didn't belong. I received so much love (all packed around my midsection...gawd, still full from all the love!), that I felt that I had known them forever, when in fact this was my first time actually spending time with them.
Then comes the guilt. While my hilarious cousin was among us, I never had an opportunity to go to California and spend time with the family. And now that he's gone, I've gone out of my way to go see everyone. I feel so terrible about that. Some days I can actually feel his hurt even though he's not here. I wish I had told him how much he meant to me. I hope that he knows how much I love and miss him. In many ways I feel worse about losing my cousin than I do about losing my own brothers. My family knew that luck was not on our side. We got this harsh reality check when my brother Amar passed away in 2002. Life since 2002 has been difficult - very difficult. Life just became very different after Amar passed away. And then Rocky was diagnosed with cancer in June 2009 and passed away in August 2010. I shouldn't even be surprised at the sheer bad luck that is my life. I should have almost expected it. We just never had luck on our side. But my cousin's family. Wow. Their life was perfect. Both of my cousins were married. They both had wonderful spouses. My aunt and uncle were looking forward to grandchildren soon, enjoying life to the fullest, and all of a sudden their son gets ripped away from them, changing their life for the worse forever. I know what it's like to lose a family member, and maybe that's why it breaks my heart so much. I am seeing what their life was like, and what it has become. It hurts me so deeply when I think about how their laughing family has been destroyed by tragedy. My family was already destroyed, and became more destroyed after Rocky passed...but my aunt and uncle...their lives have only just changed. I find some solace in the fact that the Californians are all near my aunt and uncle and can support them to the best of their ability whenever they need. They're such an amazing group of people. If they can make me feel so loved, I can only imagine how they must make my aunt and uncle feel.
Relationships. They're complicated. And sometimes, you find your biggest support systems or your biggest allies in the most unlikely of places. I know that I have gained some wonderful friends in getting to know the Californians, and I find myself missing them already - and I've only been back a week. Sigh.
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