We'll say--hypothetically, of course--that you decide to move to another country to round off your grad school experience. You plan for all sorts of fun and the occasional road block. However, you never plan on losing two wonderful, beautiful and all-around amazing friends to their battles with cancer in the short time you are gone. How do you deal with this? Well, if you're Amanda Kibler (still totally hypothetical, right?) you apparently shut yourself off for the first month of your residency, until an impromptu dinner and beer after work leads you to tears in the middle of a restaurant. Luckily, your boss is also a wonderful and caring friend who gives you a tissue, listens to you babble, and shares in two more beers.
Maybe that scenario isn't as hypothetical as I would like to pretend. I have spent a lot of time wondering what would have changed if the circumstances had been different. What if I went up to someone and confided that I really needed to talk? What if I walked into the office and told them about Tracy and Nancy? What if I allowed myself to cry in front of someone earlier? But, the circumstances are not different. I handled it in a way that I did not expect. I am truly afraid that I have shut off people here who could've helped me (even though I cross my fingers with all my might that I haven't). Guess all I can do now is reach out and hope someone grabs ahold.
Come to find out, there is such a thing as being too stubborn.
American friends and family: No need to worry! I'll pull myself out of this funk, like I always do. There's even talk about me staying an extra couple weeks (more to come on that in a later edition after I've checked ye olde bank account).
Scottish friends: I might need to go out for drinks soon...
...bring antlers.
Amanda,
ReplyDeleteLosing people you care about, in a word, sucks. Remembering that you still have a lot of people who love you and care about you, rocks. You can deal with it. You can grow from it. Remember how you were enriched by their friendship, how they helped you become the way you are.
Allow me to tell you a story: About a year after my Dad died, we lost my Grandma. Not long after, Sarah and I were driving to Topeka for some show, I forget which one, and we were listening to the Wicked soundtrack. There's a song towards the end of the show with the line "...because I've known you, I've been changed for good." Fortunately Sarah was driving because I started crying, thinking of Dad and Grandma. I still think about them every day. But I don't think about how they're gone, at least not all of the time. Mostly I think about how happy I am that I had them in my life. Little things happen during the day and I smile, thinking about how they would enjoy them or react to them. I truly believe that, as long as we remember our loved ones, they're not truly gone. You're strong, my friend. You'll be all right. Peace and we love you.
Hey ... love you.
ReplyDeleteYeah, what Elizabeth said. Also, I can't wait to have a beer (and fried food products) with you. We could do that via gchat, I suppose :)
ReplyDeleteI love you too! I'm sorry to hear that you have been through oh so much while you were over there. If it makes you feel any better, that seems to be my grief strategy, as well. Probably explains what a great year 2006 was for me! But, there is good on the other side, and strong people get through and figure out a way to live beside the grief without it pulling them down. You are strong, you will be fine. But, you already know that. I just want to say that you have so many people over here loving you and hoping that you are doing well. Enjoy Scotland and I hope that it has the ability to help you move through this, even a millimeter! Take care.
ReplyDeleteYou know...antlers can easily be mailed!!!!! We could call it the great antler adventure! Miss you!
ReplyDeleteAmie, if you send me antlers, I'll take pictures of me wearing the antlers all over the UK! That would make my day!!!
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