Unconditional Love: The Saga between Family and School

Close your eyes and imagine this:  You’re walking home from school and you have 5 missed calls from your mother.  When you see the screen your eyes widen with fear and curiosity.  The person you’re walking home with asks you if your okay and you don’t answer, just stare into space.  Instantaneously, you decide to call her back as the blackness round you decides to close in.

At one point or another we each have had some monumental moment in our lives that has shifted the way we view the world; a moment that shifts our priorities.

For me, that was the day my grandmother almost died.  Due to an infection that spread, it entered into her blood stream and caused her to get blood poisoning.  While in small quantities it can be curable by medication, her blood was at such an extreme level that the doctors didn’t know how much longer she had.

When I went to see her in the hospital I was devastated.  The woman who became my best friend over the years was hanging onto life by a thin thread; I felt as if the Fates were toying with my emotions.

A collection of old books I found recently in my basement.

It was in that moment that I regretted not spending as much time with her as I should have.  In most cases I opted for finishing a paper or getting homework done instead of going to see her.  I also would read a book instead of sparking a conversation, even if she was sitting right next to me.

She was always yelling at me to “put that stupid book down” and saying that I “overwork myself too much” in her broken English.

I never knew how right she was until now.

In senior year, priorities are everything; school work always comes first, everything else, second.  For a long time in my life I’ve always focused on school.  In a way, I let a social life slip from my hands, opting instead for straight A’s and A +’s.

In my family there’s a saying, “in life you can have a three things: a social life, work and rest”, and always, one needs to suffer.

1. If you have a social life and strong work ethic your health suffers.

2. If you do only work and rest afterwards, you have no social life.

3. If you have a social life and rest, your worth ethic suffers.

I, obviously, am a 2.  Even more so in this year, where my classes are harder and the standards are higher.  It’s been a wake up call; I can no longer cruise through school and get straight A’s on whim.  As a result, I’ve had my share of tears, as have my fellow peers.

In fact, the day after my grandma was admitted to the hospital, I took a test in calculus and received a C+ for the first time in my entire academic career.  Afterwards, an eternity could not describe the amount of time I cried, for both my grandmother and everything that made me, me; for a time, it felt as if everything I knew in the world was slipping out of my hands. 

Both situations have helped me realize, that while grades matter, they aren’t everything in the world.  A letter does not define me.

My grandmother and I at her 50th Anniversary party.

Moving forward this year, I will no longer be a #1, 2, or 3.  I want to be me, the girl who doesn’t care about her grades so much, but lives life to the fullest.  While grades are still important, I am going to spend time with my grandmother and other family members; they are my true priority.

I encourage you to do the same if you have been a workaholic your entire life as well.  You are not the letter or grade your given, you are you.

It’s time everyone got their priorities straight.  Myself included.

The Truth About Birthdays

My 5th birthday.

                Close your eyes and imagine this:  It’s a Saturday afternoon and the gleeful squeals of children can be heard in the distance.  One by one, they run past you, each wearing a hat colored either red, blue, yellow or a combination of the three.  Not wanting to be left out, you join them, squealing just as loud.  As you round your third lap, someone hands you a balloon and you enter a state of utter bliss, only to be extracted from your happiness by the distant calling of cake.

                The above described, is a reminiscence of a simpler time; a time where it didn’t matter where we came from, who our parents were, how much money they made or who was dating who- everyone was friends just the same.  In a way, it’s a perfect model for the no child left behind concept; no child was ever not invited to a party and no birthday was ever forgotten.

                As I grow older, this endless pool of friends has gradually gotten smaller; it all begins with a birthday forgotten here and a party invite that’s supposedly been lost.  Although it hurt at first, I soon learned that it was a natural part of life; friends grow apart, things happen.  Yet, as I approach June I realize that maybe not all my friendships will last; a trialing thought that as each day passes engulfs me since I’ve never been one to make friends easily. 

Throughout my life, my approach to friendship was that a few strong friendships outweighed a hundred acquaintances.  In a way, that has caused me to treat my friends like family, even though to some of them, I’m just another friend in the pool of people waiting to become close to them; I’m easily replaceable.

Me with my best friend since birth.

As I come to the mid of January, this feeling of unimportance hits me like a bus; it marks the beginning of not only a new year, but the new cycle of birthdays in my friend group. Normally I’d be fine with celebrating birthdays, in fact, I love a good party.  Yet, this year is different; I’ve been thinking a lot about the people I spend most of my time with, trying to understand where our friendship lies.

For my entire time in middle school and high school, not one of my friends has decorated my locker, made me cupcakes or cookies, or thrown me a surprise birthday party.  (Even though, fro every year since sixth grade, I've done one, if not all of the above for each of them)  Sure, my birthday is in the summer, but never once has anyone ever recommended to celebrate it sooner or come to me asking what plans I had for my birthday; it was always left up to me to organize my own birthday lunch or event.

This past year, my friends have texted me a happy birthday, but not one of them made plans with me or gave me a gift.  Truth be told, I could care less about the gift, yet it bothers me how now as their birthdays role around, they expect one from me, even listing out the things they want.  With this in my mind, I feel as if birthdays are no longer a celebration of a person or friendship, its just an opportunity for people to get gifts from people whom they never look at any other time in the year, regardless of their friendship.  To me, these are not real friends, yet for some reason, they hold that title in my heart. (Are there any people you’ve still considered friends that didn’t deserve the title?)

             I've reflected on this issue a lot lately and while on tumbler today, I came across this poem:

For my birthdays
I had cake
And candles
Parties, and sandals
So many, many
things,
None to to make me smile
But this time,
Someone held my hand
And took me on an adventure
Told me “don’t be scared,
We’re in this together”
And I didn’t feel alone
And it was the best gift
I’ve ever gotten.

             For some reason, the poem really stuck with me; it helped me realized that even though birthdays come and go, both the joyous and lonesome ones, sometimes the people who attend them can make the event joyous.  Finding that person or group of  people is going to be my goal from now until June and even in college; I don't want to be some person's afterthought anymore, I and everyone in the same situation as me, deserve better.

             Do you have that special friend or group of friends that made everything seem better?  If not, I challenge you to join me in the attempt find that person.

My dog Lola on her 1st birthday.

With this in mind, I leave you with this question:  What are birthdays to you?

100 Happy Days

Speed of Life

by Lyn Paul (1965)

What... are we doing?

Running, Rushing

Shouldn't we...

Be slowing Down?

Losing Life

We should be living

Except

We are not!

We are working

Hours long

Earning, spending

Yet not living

Running, rushing

Constantly.

Ageing...

Before Our time

We are not living

Too Busy!

Running, rushing

To get nowhere.

On Arrival...

You stop,

Breathe.

Think.

Think again.

Running, rushing - WHY?

We Need to live

To feel

To breathe

The Speed of Life

                Sometimes the Human Race is its own worst enemy, with each Homo Sapien carrying its own agenda and daily affairs.  Over time, those agendas seem to overtake our life, turning our individual peaceful tranquility into a marathon that never seems to end.  When I was reading the poem I posted above, I began picturing Grand Central Station and Times Square; whenever I visit the two I seem to be surrounded by a swarm of people hastily clicking away with their high heels to a meeting or with luggage in tow to make a flight.  It’s in both places that I sometimes pause a moment, the only stillness in a chaotic kaleidoscope, and let the colors swarm around me; it’s in those moments I find tranquility, a calm before I reenter the Gulf Stream.

As my last days as a High school student and two years as a teen approach, I too find myself losing that sense of calm, becoming a baby turtle traveling across the globe at blazing speeds, unable to break free from the currents; each day seems to slip from my grasp as the homework and exams pile up and darkness sneaks up upon me at the most unexpected moments.  Sometimes I find myself typing away at my computer, intrigued in an assignment, only to be pulled away by my dog barking at the window.  It’s there that I am surprised and say into space, “oh, it’s already dark”.

While it’s okay to be engrossed in the activity resonating in each of our lives, I’ve noticed more and more that mine seems to be slipping away; where have my 17 years gone?  It seems like just yesterday I began high school.  This flood of emotion came to me when I came across a website entitled 100 Happy Days; its sole mission is to challenge people to find something in their daily life that makes them happy, 100 days in a row.  While it seems like a fun challenge, what interested me was the site’s statistic where it stated that “71% of people tried to complete this challenge, but failed quoting lack of time as the main reason. These people simply did not have time to be happy.”  It made me really think, have I been happy today?  Was I happy yesterday or the day before?  Am I too stressed and busy to be happy?

I really think that sometimes we let life rush by us so fast, that we only recall the stressful, tiresome, work-filled moments because we spend a majority, if not all, of our time focusing on it.  (At least, this is the case for me, I in no way want to speak on the behalf of others and be wrong.)  No wonder, according to The NationalInstitute of Mental Health (NIMH), 3.3 million American adults are diagnosed with depression each year.  And what about the thousands of teenagers and adults that go undiagnosed with clinical or even temporary depression each day?)  I myself, although not clinically affected, sometimes find myself depressed for no reason and I wonder if society is to blame.  To me, it seems as if happiness is no longer an expectation or daily part of society.

With this in mind, I’m tired of overworking and stressing myself; it’s time to dwell and celebrate the good, not the bad moments in our lives.  For this reason, I decided to sign up for the challenge.  Will you?

To Sign Up:

1. Visit http://100happydays.com/ and sign up (it's not required)
2. Post a picture to any of your social networking sites with the Day #, a description and the hash tag #100happydays

The Snowflake's Strategy

                As the world braves the Arctic Vortex, millions across the Northern Hemisphere gravitate towards the warmth and comfort of their homes.  Yet, despite the freezing temperatures, two small children decide to brave the weather and play amongst the small White Mountains formed the day before.  Together, they each grab a handful of falling, glistening crystals, but a few escape from the grasp of their woolen mittens.  As each snowflake slowly moves away from the two, disappearing towards the ground or carried away by the howling wind into oblivion, so do my days as a senior escape my grasp.

                Today, there is a little more than 6 months of my high school career left.  As the days dwindle, the inevitable becomes a scary thought considering I’ve been in my school for the past seven years (since 6^th grade); I don’t remember attending any other educational institution or know what to expect once I leave these crowded halls.  With this in mind, when I was asked in Advisory to pick one word that would describe my remaining days as a senior, only one word came to mind, strategy. 

                Growing up, I was never one of those little girls who played dress up or attempted to run around in my mother’s heels (she would have killed me!).  Instead, I would sit around my living room and write or complete a puzzle.  Through it all, I always had a strategy, whether it was an outline or organizing my puzzle pieces before I began to avoid frustration.  In a way, that need to plan and organize has always resonated with me.

                Recently, I've received some scholarship offers from all the schools I’ve applied to, except one.  However, none of them cover full tuition, only two-thirds.  So, as June approaches, strategy is definitely something that is going to be on the top of my agenda as I work on choosing which one I want to attend and negotiating with Admissions counselors for as close to full tuition as possible.  Which school would I rather attend, the one that I have to pay for with full tuition out of pocket or the one that comes out to $9,000 a year?  How much should I pay for my education?  These are all scary thoughts and questions I have no response for.  It seems like I have a lot of planning to do.

                As I sit here in class typing away and reflecting, I realize that I am that snowflake in the child’s fingers, slowly slipping away; I have no idea where I will travel on my journey, I just know the end, the floor, or in this case, Graduation.  In a way, we are all snowflakes drifting through the frigid air; it doesn't matter what word we choose to describe our lives in the future, where we go in our lives is a mystery.  However, for me at least, strategy will help me on that journey, making it less tedious than it needs to be.

                What will help your snowflake on its journey?