I've been in a pretty sombre mood since yesterday. But I must say that the day was important; probably important in more ways than I now realise. I'm completely positive that It will at least always be in my memory. August 17, 2013 was a day of Life and Death... Not that I'm going to remember the date....
It was a Day of Death.. It was my cousin's funeral.
I can say pretty confidently, now, that his death was a mystery. I had heard some mention of smoking and the sort but I found out there was none. 25 year olds don't suddenly develop severe heart conditions. Now even though I had spent a fair amount of time with him as a child I barely have any memories of him so hearing his past schoolmates, university batch mates and even co-workers talk about him made me realise that in all honesty we were a lot alike. At least many things said about him are things I would want to have said about me. He was a joker, a man who loved to make people laugh, a confidant, a friend, an achiever (probably over achiever), a hard worker, a man who cared abut his friends, family, loved ones; he was father (even if only for 8 months) and he loved his son and his son's mother dearly, he touched the lives of all he was around, he was dedicated, he was willing to sacrifice his time and his resources for the good of others... and it went on. Of course people only highlight the good at funerals, but it was obvious from these and other accounts (from family members closer to him than I) that they were at least telling the truth about the good. If any of these things could be said at my funeral, or just said about me, then I'd feel accomplished as a human being.
I can also say that never before in my 17-going-on-18 years of life has my entire family (mother's side) been represented in one place (only one of my uncles was absent, and he sent his wife in his place). In a way it was a good thing... but in many more ways it was bad. Very Bad. Like all families mine has it's share of familial bullshit, but it's nor a fair share... It's WAY too much to be fair. There are families in need of bullshit and we could very well be suppliers. I won't talk about it in detail here, that's not my personal business and thus I'm not at liberty to disclose it; not to mention the amount of people involved (my grandparents had 10 children... 9 of which have their own families). However I can tell you this much. The death of one of our younger members did almost nothing to harbour any sense of unity among us. If anything it made some gaps wider. Even in death the bullshit still smelled as strong as ever, if not stronger.
The pastor at the funeral preached a "timely word". "Timely" is an oft used word concerning preaching but this message was DEFINATELY given at a suitable time. He preached from Psalms 103.
Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.
Psalms 103:13-14
We Are Dust. Humans are Frail. Life is Uncertain. Live Healthily. Live Humbly. Don't Live a Wasted Life. Don't Take Others for Granted. Yeah. Quite Timely.
The burial was pretty miserable. My aunt aid something in the bus. "The only t'ing we Crawfords do quiet is bawl"... and she's right. Well, at least about the quiet crying. There was a lot of crying. His girlfriend took it really hard, and for good reason. She is left now with a son that's the splitting image of his father but will never really know him. I don't know what plans they had but I know that Ramon loved both of them dearly, and it was reciprocated. She bawled, honest, pure-hearted bawling. Some of us as family cried, but in our way of doing so, we cried silently. I had decided that I had no right to cry, and I didn't, but I was definitely as silent as a crying Crawford as I stood there. Stood there while they lowered his casket into the grave. Stood there as they placed the concrete slabs over it. Stood there as the cemented the slabs together. Stood there as the covered the grave in dirt. I sang not one word, and I could see the general consensus by us as the family (though my father, not being a Crawford was somewhat exempt).
Saturday (not yesterday anymore) was a day of Death.
it left many questions. "Why?" is generally the first one and for good reason. We often hear the cliché statement "Everything happens for a reason". When it comes to death it's a difficult pill to swallow. Always. However, I do believe that everything happens for a reason. And while it is not in my capacity to know the reasons for everything I can say I witnessed one of the reasons for the necessity of my cousin's funeral.
We went to the funeral in a bus (not all of us but a good amount of us) and whilst coming back to Mandeville we meet upon the scene of an accident. A MASSIVE accident too. Both cars were totalled, and all the passengers were elderly people. It was bad. As we passed however re realised there was no urgent effort to help these people out and soon 3 of my aunts, father, 3 of my cousins, a family friend and myself had become the leaders of this rescue operation.
From the layout of the scene my father pieced together a theory as to what happened. he believed that a car going down the hill caught a spin (rain had just fallen) the car coming up the hill the rammed into the side, catching a spin itself, and then stopping with the rear end to the rear end of the first car.
I won't detail the entire ordeal, however I'll talk about two things.
1. The injuries involved. The lady at the point of impact had her foot pinned under the door. Her foot was broken in several places and her hip was broken. There was a man who had a cut on his foot straight through to bone. There was a woman who was cut by the seatbelt right under the throat. Another was thrown from the back of the second car tot he front, being saved only by the airbags. Another woman apparently suffered internal damage from the seatbelt and the airbags.
All of these people and like 3 more were gotten to the hospital, mainly due to our effort as a family.
2. The people around us. Only a few of the were of any help, even though the crowd only got larger. We had to be traffic controllers, lucky thing one of my nurses is a poem, one of my aunts carried the woman who had the pinned by the door, to the hospital. But the people were so... absent. They watched, we needed help carrying anyone... none, too many I recount for me. People were cursing us for blocking the road. My cousin had to intervene and cut two "claat" to get them compliant. It was Awful.
My family is capable of many things. And people are selfish fucks.
But through us. Saturday was a Day of Life. Lives we saved.
even though two of those ladies died Sunday morning.
It was a Long, Full Day. But it ended just as all of us one day will. We are literally like a day. Here today, gone tomorrow.
-Me
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