Christopher (left), Captain Imperfecto, Nico Training Grounds
February 23, 2015
My face is changing. When did I morph into this thing I stare at the mirror every day? The only things in this world that don't notice my changes are my kids and my dogs. To them, I will live forever.
I remember when my parents seemed invincible.
One day, when I was about 10, I discovered that all things die. You see, we had a beautiful Afghan dog named Raja. One day after arriving home from elementary school, I saw Raja lying on the backyard's green grass. In fact, he was sleeping in the greenest spot in the entire yard. However, my dog never came to greet me when. Raja never walked into the kitchen to lick up the crumbs that fell off my afterschool snack. Oddly, Raja was ignoring me. I walked towards the large sliding glass doors. I pressed my head against the glass and peered at my dog behind my imaginary force field. I tapped the glass, hoping the "ting" noise would grab his attention.
But there was still no movement.
I opened the door and stood at its threshold. I was so naïve, so ignorant, to the death of my dog. He was just sleeping, right?
I slowly walked towards him and called his name. "Raja, come here, Raja," I said as I clapped my hands.
He never popped his head up.
I stood over him and stared. I was a ten-year-old boy, and I was so confused. It was so dumb to realize he was gone. It is so innocent to think we live forever. Why wasn't my dog answering me?
I knelt down and stroked his long, flowing white hair. But he didn't react. I was puzzled. This had never happened to me. Raja was my closest pal.
"Raja?" I said. My voice crackled.
But Raja did not react to me. He did not look at me. He did not speak to me. He was gone. Gone forever. Dying while I was at school. Lying in the green pasture of our backyard as I laughed and played kickball during school recess. My best friend had died.
When my father came home, he explained death to me. He told me that Raja, like humans, lives life, and when the time for living is done, we move on and leave our bodies forever. But he said, most importantly, they live forever in our hearts.
I was afraid for weeks that I would die any day now. Even worse, I was scared my dad, who was once the most invincible of all, would die before I could say goodbye. Late at night, I would sneak into his room and slowly run my hand on his chest until I felt his heartbeat. I would fall asleep alongside him when I was assured he was alive. I dream of happy thoughts because we would live to see another day together.
I'm getting older, and so are my dad and my mom. I appreciate everything my father and mother have done for me and my brothers and sisters. I can understand them for who they are and have always been: hardworking people who did their best with what life had given them.
My dog taught me about death and the hard lessons associated with the finality of it. But as I age, my parents will always see me as they did as a child: an invincible kid with my whole life in front of me. I was wrong to think that my kids and dogs are the only ones in my life who don't notice my changing face because to my parents, as for me and my boys, I (they) will forever be that little boy(s) they (we) brought into this world.
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