Posts Tagged ‘Death’

I love babies. They’re fragile and unaware. Not to mention, they’re us and who we used to be. A friend recently had a baby and I was invited to come visit, only hours after her little girl was born. I had been to visit babies, such as new cousins, at the hospital before but there was something different about this experience. Maybe because I’m getting older or because it was one of my peers’ babies but it really moved me. It moved me in a way that brought tears to my eyes and a sort of happiness and excitement that was so precious. Of course, I was super embarrassed because no one else was crying-not even the brand new mom or grandma. After laughing, apologizing the tears away and taking a few photos, I left the hospital feeling so calm. Content. Happy. I felt as if I had been recharged, ready for life and the challenges ahead of me. They say that “being born” and dying are the most painful and difficult experiences to endure (which I’d like to know how anyone knows that) and if this tender little human could handle being born and struggling into our world then we can persevere over our pain, struggles and conflicts.


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Obviously. It goes without saying. But, I’m talking on an even lesser scale. I killed an insect.Usually I don’t have much remorse but this time it was different. It was a yellow jacket bee and trapping him was too easy. He was on the wall of my bathroom and I only hesitated a moment before I grabbed the hand soap bottle. I intended to smush him but since the bottom of the bottle was concave, it merely caged him. He barely flinched until I dragged along the wall without thinking it would injure him. Trying to bring him to the bring him down to where the wall met the floor, his little legs got stuck under the rim. Ugh, his legs were then broken so when I released the bottle from against the wall he fell into the bucket. He was a big guy. I witnessed him struggle and looked him in his bugged eyes when I apologized. I forced myself to watch him because it was me who had harmed him so frivolously. He was probably crying a little bee cry. Once I had seen all I could I dumped him into the toilet and flushed him. Hours afterwards, it stayed with me. Guilt. I couldn’t help but wonder why didn’t I instinctively try to trap him first and release him outside? I hadn’t been scared of him, I’ve never been one of those people who freak out when a bee is near (I have a low tolerance for those people). It may seem silly but if we had more value and respect for lives seemingly smaller then ours than maybe we could find more value in each other’s lives.

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