Two more papers and then I will have a short break before I start student teaching. Hooray!
Blog Archives
Oct
01
It’s amazing how quickly life can change, and how much tragedy can put things in perspective. How good we had it comes up in my mind far too often these days, and I also think a lot about how life will never be the same again. I have a lot of questions now. It’s beyond wondering why this happened; now I wonder about what links us to each other, and how it can be affected, strengthened and broken by unfortunate events.
Have you ever asked yourself what makes a family? It seems that blood and marriage mean nothing in the face of misfortune. For better or for worse were just lines recited, because when the “worse” reared its difficult head, the responses were frightening. Family is made up of those who stay by your side in the face of adversity. Most importantly, family is love. Love is tested by everything that has happened and everything that has changed. Love gives us the courage to continue on with day-to-day life. Love is what makes us cry and what makes us hope. Love is what makes us reach out to strangers and, in turn, love them as family too.
I’ve also learned so much about friendship in the past two months. My best friends have showed concern, given me a shoulder and sent their prayers to whatever gods they believed in, all with the hope of giving some comfort to me, to my Mom, to everyone affected by this accident. I am grateful that people have been there for me, because I don’t think I could have handled this on my own. The fact that my friends will check in allows me to talk about how things are progressing, about how I feel and allows me an opportunity to vent. If I held all this in, I would die.
My own strength has been tested. I’ve had to be strong for my Mom because this is even harder for her. She is watching someone she loves dearly struggle, but she’s kept at a distance. It’s so difficult on her, and I play the role of friend and family. I must listen, advise, and—most importantly—love her, because she is my mother and she has always supported me and would do so if it was me in this situation. Still, it’s been difficult for me to watch her endure this trial. What’s hardest, though, is visiting SW. I try to keep my head while I’m there, but it’s so hard not to cry. He’s not capable of being the same person, but he is—somewhere in there—the same good person he was before the accident.
Watching the recovery process has been difficult. I haven’t been able to visit as much as I would like to, but each time I do, he looks a little bit better. Most of the time, he knows who I am right away. There are times, though, when he mistakes me for my Mom or knows who I am but can’t remember my name. One time he compensated by calling me Denise Jr. His tone is different, though; he sounds confused. You know that feeling when you have right after waking up in a strange place and not knowing where you are? From his tone, I’d assume that’s what a traumatic brain injury is like all the time. Lately, he’s been very sad that he can’t go home. He cries, and asks my Mom or his sister or me to help him, because we are family. And family helps.
But we are helpless.
I worry that SW will never be able to comprehend the sentiments behind what we’ve written. And I constantly wonder how long this will take, and how we will weather this storm. At times we can feel completely overwhelmed by what is going on in our lives, but we keep hoping things will get better.
Things were good. I didn’t realize how nice life was until everything changed and the emptiness filled its place. Little things catch me off guard, and I wonder if that will ever change. Will things ever go back to being good, or will good be redefined?
We just have to take it a day, a week, a month at a time.
Category: Life in CEPA, Unchecked Baggage
Tags: family, friends, injustice, love, sadness, tragedy, wasting away Leave a Comment
Sep
21
Dan and I took a long vacation after the summer season at Hershey ended and before substituting got into full swing. He had some random vacation time for a week in September, so we rented a small condo in Dewey Beach that my family used to rent when I was a little kid. This vacation was supposed to start with a Kings of Leon concert, but they canceled (because they’re rat bastards), so it started a day later with us staying in the campground for a couple of days before it was time to move into the condo. Now, I could write about all the delicious restaurants we visited (Mama’s Cantina in Ocean City, Dogfish Head Brewpub, The Cultured Pearl, Nalu, Dos Locos) or all the delicious beer we drank (most of which was Dogfish Head), but that would only serve to make you jealous and/or make my mouth water.
Instead, I’d like to reflect on how being on vacation for an entire week with no commitments made me feel:
Really, really good.
I cannot remember the last time I felt total relaxation. While I did have to complete schoolwork, I didn’t take any textbooks to the beach. I read a trashy magazine and a novel. On a day when the surf was too rough for me to swim, I moved my chair down to the water and watched the waves break. The ocean moved like poetry; the tide seemed to wash away so much of the negativity I carried to the shore with me.
Surprisingly, Dan and I handled living together for over a week pretty well. It was a big test for us as two people in a long distance relationship that normally don’t put up with each other for more than a few days. We slept 11 hours on one of our first days in the condo, and the following day we woke up in time to see the sunrise over the ocean.
It was a wonderful experience because in the shoulder season, the beaches aren’t as crowded and the town is quiet and sleepy. People can bring their dogs to the beach and we watched all the different breeds and how happy they were in the waves. By the middle of the week, we both felt a lot like Peter Gibbons in Office Space. Completely relaxed. Sometimes I felt as happy as the dogs.
I tried to bring the relaxation back with me. For the first time since starting grad school, I turned in an assignment late because I wanted to go to bed at a decent time and refused to stress out about deadlines. I am continuing to relax a bit this week, since yesterday was my 26th birthday and I am still working part-time at Hershey on Sundays and Wednesdays. I need to clean up my office and get my life organized before subbing picks up so that I can keep school, subbing and Hershey straight. I hope that I can keep this positive attitude.
Perhaps someday soon I’ll write a post about all that we imbibed whilst in Slower Lower Delaware. Hopefully with some pictures from Dan’s Nikon rather than my cell phone.
Category: Adventures
Tags: beach, Dan, Dogfish Head, life, love, relaxation, vacation Leave a Comment
Aug
03
Life can change so quickly. Just a matter of seconds can change the course of years, and mere minutes can determine life or death. One doesn’t usually consider how fragile life is on a daily basis when going about work that seems both tedious and straightforward. In this case, climbing a ladder on an ordinary day to do a task that wasn’t quite part of the job description but nonetheless a responsibility borne by an overburdened plant manager almost cost a life. And now those of us who love this man sit reeling in the aftermath.
Tragedy is personal. Nine years ago, the nation faced September 11 and a week later that paled in comparison to a car accident at my high school. A year ago, my godfather was killed in a traffic accident; he left behind a wonderful, loving wife and two sons who have since become fathers without their father in their life. It is horrifying what these families have gone through. To anyone who has lost someone completely, who has had someone suddenly ripped from their life, my sadness may seem selfish. I make no apologies for my egocentricity. I acknowledge that each individual disaster is its own experience. All I can do is live in this moment. I am heartbroken. I am helpless.
So I continue to stalk Facebook for news and ask friends for prayers. I carry on spreading the word about this horrible accident, his condition, his prognosis to those who care to listen. I keep talking about him with a stiff lip and no tears because I am resolute in my strength. I wait for news; all sources report slightly different descriptions, but it’s all I have to go on at this time. I fear actually seeing the damage, because I know my strength will leave me and I will have to face the magnitude of what happened. In text it is just a story, a bad dream. The change has not yet been realized in this house, though the emptiness is starting to show itself.
Now that I know how quickly things can change, I try to stay optimistic, but I fear bad news. The helplessness mixes with hope, but nothing is finite. I must subsist on the love and prayers of friends and family and maintain my own good thoughts. I must remember that many people feel this tragic heartbreak, because many people love this man. My biggest hope is that he knows how much we all care.
Jun
05
Lately, I’m stressed out. I’m working at Hershey Central Reservations over the summer to earn some much needed money while taking three classes. I came home after eight straight days of working to my wonderful boyfriend with whom I shared a relaxing Friday with errands and an afternoon matinee of Get Him to the Greek. Today we had a dinner party for some of my old (and new) friends, and I was reminded of how lucky I truly am.
Megan and Meredith are the closest I’ve ever had to sisters. We were in Girl Scouts together from Brownies through high school graduation, and in the seven years since high school graduation we’ve managed to stay friends. There were times when we didn’t get along and maybe even disliked each other, but now that we’re older, we appreciate the history we share. We can sit down for a meal and it seems like we never spent any time apart. Today, Meredith entertained us with stories of near-death experiences on her travels to Africa, and Megan provided much-needed updates on how she returned to this area to pursue her career.
Megan and Mer weren’t the only friends present. Dan, of course, was here; Kim, who I met through Dan and Keanan, stopped by after a wedding shower in Lebanon; and Megan’s wife, Kara, accompanied her. These represent a newer circle of relationships, an extension of friendships forged in the past. Friends introduce friends to their friends and friendships or relationships blossom. People connect. It’s fascinating to take a step back at the end of the day and reflect on the conversations of the day. So few people can make me laugh the way I laughed today. And I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.
The food was great, too. Parties have become much more classy since the days of jungle juice. Mer and I did manage to kill two bottles of white, drinking about 3/4 of a bottle each. She also brought stuffed mushrooms that went over quite well and Dan and I had picked up crackers, veggies, hummus and horseradish cheddar bacon spread at market that morning. The main course was grilled chicken, pasta salad and corn on the cob. We finished with some delicious pie. Food only managed to quiet us for a few moments, though. The central focus of the day was conversation and stories of the past and discussions of the present and future.
I know that I’m extraordinarily lucky to have such amazing friends in my life. I know that my family and Dan love me, but the love in my house today was different than the love that’s here at other times. Today, my home was filled with sisterhood (sorry, Dan, you’re an honorary sister). We share a history and common interests and a general concern for each other’s well being. We are a family, fashioned from scouting, built on social networks and brought together by benevolent forces. We are fortunate, and I will try to remember this when times are rough.