Emulation of Eggers

Introduction: 

 Dave Eggers in his A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius shows a remarkable power/control over words and the effect they can yield a reader. He jumps from a funny and light tone to a serious, sad one in one simple paragraph break and page turn. His front material reveals him as a witty writer, breaking the rules of format and attempting to analyze his own writing. It also shows him to perhaps have a chip on his shoulder. Yet the beginning of his work yields a complete 180 shift in tone. He begins to tell about his mother's illness, dying of cancer and his father's abrupt and unexpected death.

In this emulation, I will try to imitate his abrupt shift in tone and possibly his varying styles of writing. Caution: The material in the Preface is not necessary to read the actual piece, and it may be skipped. Do not say that you were not warned.

Preface:

 It seems as though I need to assure the reader that I am similar to them. I, like you, am a human being. We have 99.99% of the same DNA and genes. Biologically we are pretty similar; so should we not be similar mentally as well, able to sympathize or a least empathize with each other? But to further assure you  of this, I shall make a list of our similarities.

1. I am like you. We both probably have made a list sometime in our lives.
2. Like any student, I procrastinate.
3. Some days, I stay up ridiculously late for no reason, except for wasting time on the internet and then needing to finish said homework or papers.
4. Occasionally I fall asleep wearing the same clothes that I wore that day.
5. I didn't cry when my sister left for the Peace Corps despite the fact that I would not see her for two years.
6. Both of the times that I have been dumped, I have felt this odd sense of relief.
7. After my grandma died, I stopped eating as much and for a couple months, could have been considered anorexic.
8. I love watching those goat videos dubbed with Taylor Swift, Usher, etc. (See below.)

Yay for assurance!
Still I feel the need to explain myself and my life choices as if we do not understand each other. Almost as an apology. So here is a goat video instead.

The Rendering of a Romantic Realist

The warm glow of the sun shined through the stained glass onto the filled pews. Flowers suffocated the lobby as two of my cousins and I stood awkwardly off in the corner. Afraid to say the wrong thing. Afraid to make small talk with relatives that we had never met before. Not sure how behave at our first funeral.
 "I like your dress."
"Thanks. Only black dress I owned, though I wore it last year for initiation."
They nodded at each other in understanding.
"I wish . . ." Tears engulfed one of my cousins, and she excused herself. Slowly we also dissipated, returning to our respective parents. 

The organ filled the sanctuary as the dark brown coffin was carried to the front. The pastor welcomed the congregation as they came to celebrate the life of . . .

~

It was finally finals week. That Monday 8:00 exam of Evolution was finally complete. Spanish was 48 hours or more away, CAS essays and Chemistry, days away. Relief flooded my being.
"How do you think you did?"
"Ehh, I am just glad it is over with! We will never have to sit through that class again!"
"True that!"
 I had always kept my phone on silence after learning the hard lesson of having it go off my first day of college during class. While I had smoothly pretended to not own a phone, embarrassment forced me to never have that happen again. Hence, the silence.That day was no exception, and only because I was busily texting T, I saw the incoming call from home.
"Hey, Kiddo."
"Hi!!"
"We wanted to wait until after the exam to tell you this, but Grandma . . ."
"When?"
"June 5."
"Hey . . . it will be okay. Jessica is on her way . . . We can stay on the line until she gets there . . . Okay?"
"Right."

I had just been home the weekend before for Memorial Day, but the last memory I had of her came from Easter. She had been sleeping in the hospital bed, tied up to ten billion IVs and cords and who-knows what else. She had looked so peaceful with her white hair between the pillow and her shoulder. Her small body disappeared behind the white sheets. In a comfortable yet still awkward silence, I sat with Granddad, staring at her. 
Was this really what she had wanted to live like, die like, in a hospital room surrounded by doctors and nurses that she did not know or care about? In this state, where she did not recognize loved ones, know where she was, living via a machine, feed via IV because she could not herself eat? Why was God making her suffer this much? Would it be better if the cords were just pulled now? Just end all of that suffering. But then what about the rest of us? How would we be able to part? Plus, she could recover . . . No.

"Hey, I am sure Jessica is close by now. We are going to let you go. Just remember, it is okay now. The pain's gone. She's in a better place."

~

The coffin lay under a white tent, above the lush green grass and beside the huge dark hole. The sun in the beautiful June blue sky with fluffy white clouds baked down on us as we in black made our toward it. It was time for a final good-bye.