The word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out.

I don't really know how to begin this post. I don't even really want to begin it. But because tragedy is as much a part of life as happiness, i shall include it here too.

I had an amazing last day at work. As soon as i walked in it became clear that this was my last day there. Debbie Downer and Amanda were acting a little weird. For the first hour or so, there was light conversation but nothing else. It was as if saying nothing to me was better than saying goodbye.

After a few awkward silences we fell back into our regular talk fest. It was pretty good. Debbie Downer was trying to find some way to keep me there, with talks of a raise and a new position. But some how a less than minimum wage job, and title of student supervisor could not lure me in. I talked to Rock & Roll for a while about totally geeky stuff, and then spent the rest of the day going over life stories with Debbie and Amanda. At 2 o'clock i said goodbye to Debbie Downer. There was a long hug, followed by "keep in touch" "i promise". We did form some weird friendship during the month of June, and though i have talked crap about her i do plan on keeping touch.

I had planned to sneak out of work soon after DD left, so i could play Rock Band with The Boys. They took their lunch break at 1:30, so i could meet them at Britton's apartment as soon as DD left. I said a quick goodbye to Amanda vowing i would come back before she went home, and headed to Brittons apartment. As soon as i got there, i was put on the microphone again and belted out a lovely rendition of "Wonderwall" by Oasis. Not only was i crowned best vocals of the day, but i played the drums on our farwell song "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Our usual 2 hour break, lasted for 3 1/2 hours, and by the time i got back Amanda was gone for the day. Though i was pissed that i missed my chance to say goodbye to her, i hugged all of My Boys goodbye and headed back to my apartment to pack and study.

My history exam went GREAT, and Stef-an walked me back to my place saying that he would miss me at work and that we would have to keep in touch to talk about fashion and stuff. My mom had come way early in the morning, so by the time i came back from the exam my room was cleaned. We headed home, and talked about how much fun we'd have on July 4th.

We have been planning July 4th ever since memorial day. We picked out what we would make (what i would bake) and the movies we would rent. Though we aren't fans of a huge crowd, we even planned to go see the fireworks. My mom loves fireworks, and July 4th is her favorite holiday. I think it's always been her favorite holiday because of the grilling and bright lights. When we were younger she would take us to White Plains High School were they did a firework show.

The beginning of our fourth was really good. Some mishaps with the grill could not deter our ambition for a great day. I baked strawberry short cake, which went well with everything else my mom made. We ate around 3, and then set off to take a nap so we could be energized for the firework show.

When my grandma died three years ago, i found out about it from my brother. I was pissed because he was waking me up early in the morning. I was pretty annoyed when i heard him knock again, calling my name for added effect. When i opened the door i said "what do you want"' in a tone that was not so nice. Because of this he sort of threw "grandma's dead" in my face so quickly that the words smacked me.

I wonder why i seem to be asleep when people pass away. You'd think it would be easier, you know. But it isn't because you are groggy, disoriented, and still (for me anyway) unable to tell if you are dreaming or awake. At about 5 o'clock my mom comes walking up the stairs real slow and heavy. The sound wakes me up and I am annoyed once again that my sleep is being disrupted. She comes in my room, stands by the beams of bed and says something that i can't remember.

I can sense it is something bad and i assume it's about my brother because he is the bearer of bad news. He's been dating a new girl, and by the look on my mom's face i'm preparing to hear that he got someone else pregnant. When we first heard that he and his ex-girlfriend were having a baby about 2 years ago, we were all kind of disappointed. But that quickly turned to excitement because who doesn't like cute babies.

My mom was the most excited. She didn't even try to hide it. She feels like she made so many mistakes with my brother that having a grandchild could correct some of those wrong. When we found out it was going to be a boy, it was like the best news ever. I was shooting for a name like Benjamin, but Elijah Daniel sufficed.

Ever since he was born my mom has been Super Grandma. I think in some way, this was her second chance with my brother via his kid.

Soon after Danny was born, my brother's ex-girlfriend moved back to Michigan. She brought Danny done for a visit last summer, and my mom was just the happiest person in the world. She had reservations at first because my brother is young and still a child, but she knew she would be a good grandma. And she was.

He was a super good kid. He didn't cry once the whole time he was with us. He sort of smiled a lot, and let my mom dress him up and all kind of ridiculous clothing. He had this wide eyed thing that runs in the family. Sort of like "what the hell is this...it's flipping amazing". He was only her for a short visit, but all of us enjoyed it. We saw so much potential in him, even at such a young age.

Hmmm...now the hard part.

So yesterday, when my mom came into my room, wanting to tell me the bad news...i assumed it was something frivolous. Not that Her grandchild, my nephew, and my brother's kid had died about an our ago. In an instant we went from being this complete and happy family, to completely confused and devastated.


i don't know the full story, just that Danny had asthma and wasn't feeling well. The doctor had given some him some medication that made him groggy and tired. And he just never woke up. My mom has been crying the last two days, my brother has been in and out of the house. I'm just kind of left in limbo.

When a kid dies (of in his case a baby dies) you don't so much mourn the life he has lived, but the life he will never live. At this point i'm just trying to comfort my mom, who is taking the death the hardest of all. I don't really know what to say to her, so i don't say much.

There is a stillness in the air that comes with death. Everything is sort of on pause, while the world outside these walls is moving. I feel like if you'd walk in this house you feel a weight that would suffocate and overwhelm you.


I'm managing okay.A few secret tears in my room. It's my mom i'm really worried about. I feel if you touched her ,even lightly, she would crack into a million pieces, so i'm just trying to prevent that from happening. I don't know if i'm doing such a good job of it, or even if i've allowed myself to process the death. I feel like i can't crack or cry because then everything would crumble. So forgive me if i decide to do it here from time to time. Seems like the only place i have these days.

~Beckett.