This week has been the strangest.
We had mostly a lovely Saturday. We relaxed. I did some writing. We went to a good friend’s housewarming party.
Then we received the horrible news late Saturday night, and that eclipsed pretty much everything for the next few days.
Yesterday we were approved for our dream apartment in Brooklyn. We celebrated with candy and smiles. It’s like the universe’s way of proving that it really does keep a balance between the awesome and the shitty.
But I can’t help feeling a bit guilty every time I’m happy about something, every time I feel my mouth stretch into a genuine smile. It feels so wrong that my aunt is dead (and too young for it), and yet other things in my life are so so good. I have to remind myself that life goes on; she would have wanted me to be happy. I’m still not sure how religious I am, but it helps to remember the things my parents said: that my positivity and good spirits are crucial to help her smoothly transition to her next life.
When I’m feeling low, what I’m saddest about is actually not the specific death…if that makes sense. It’s that my mother has lost one of her closest siblings; my young cousins have lost their mother; my uncle has lost his beautiful wife; a gap was irreversibly torn in the universe. And I’m sad that Xiao Wen will never meet my amazing fiancé, that I’ll never get to tell her over the phone that we were approved for that lovely apartment.
The funeral is this Sunday. Father’s Day. The day after Loren’s birthday. The universe has shitty timing. I’m anxious about the funeral. But I’m also glad for the chance to see some of my extended family for the first time in ages.