How could I forget this little gem earlier?
As I hold my grandfather’s hand while he lay on his death bed, tears forming in my eyes and trickling down my cheeks, I hear him make a short-breathed gasp, as if he were trying to speak. He hadn’t spoken in days. The rest of the family was sure he would go peacefully: That he had accepted death, and even welcomed it. There was no more he had to say, and his time was done. But something convinced me otherwise, and until that moment, I had patiently awaited a sign from my grandfather. That sign was finally here.
He tried to say my name. He didn’t forget, but it was so difficult for him to say anything. Finally, he took a deep breath and whispered for me to come closer. I obliged eagerly and sadly, knowing that my grandfather was going to die soon. Leaning in close to his mouth, my heart beating out of my chest, I asked him what he wanted to tell me. After a few choked coughs, he whispered, very slowly into my ear and taking desperate breaths between each word, “Ravioli… ravioli… give me the… formuoli…”
And then he died.
ekatva asked: What do we need to do to get out of the kelp forest?
Now, I know what you’re thinking: The answer is “nothing”, right? Well, yes, that’s true, but it’s not that simple. The “kelp forest” you mentioned represents obstacles, and all of the problems in your life. And, of course, you want to get out of this kelp forest, and return to the great things that lie outside of it. But, like Squidward, the harder you try, the more futile the task of escaping becomes. Sometimes, when you want to move forward, all you have to do is be patient, wait, take it easy and just groove on with life instead of trying to take everything under your control, or, as the Magic Conch put it, just do…