Mom:
I’m going back to school next month. It’s such a strange feeling, when I think in all the ways my life has changed, and continues to change, since June. Stranger still that I haven’t been able to share anything with you since July.
So anyway, I enrolled at the University of Phoenix and will be getting a Bachelor of Science degree in Business Marketing. It’s only going to take me a little bit more than a year to be done. Remember when I dropped out of school all those years ago to move home when you were first diagnosed with lymphoma? I was only 4 credits shy of my Associates degree! All this time, and I was so very close to being halfway through. Typical of me, isn’t it? I can compartmentalize like no ones business.
My last day of work here is September 21st, and I’ve got to say, I am SO over it. This was just not the job for me. This morning I accepted a position with a start-up air duct cleaning company in Old Town. It’ll only be a few days a week (tops like 25 hours) so I will be able to focus on school. I’m using the money you left behind as income to live off of for the next year. I feel like in a way, I’m coming full circle with this. The reason I quit school was for you, and the reason I’m going back is because of you. You’re making it possible for me in your death to go back to school, which is something you were not able to make possible in your life.
I was talking last night to my new friend Caryn and she told me she thinks I’m one of the strongest people she’s ever known. But you know what? I don’t feel strong. Is strength synonymous with survival? Because to be honest with you, I feel like all I’ve done this year is survive. I’ve managed to get out of bed in the morning, go through the motions of my day, and mark the hours until I get to go back to bed at night. What other choice is there? You used to say you didn’t feel strong either. That you felt weak from all the terrible things you had to go through in your life and I always pooh poohed it. You seemed SO strong, always. You had moments of weakness, but those moments are what made you human instead of a superhero. Now I can relate to that feeling of weakness like never before. Maybe you weren’t strong either. Maybe you were a survivor, like me. Maybe what you left behind in me is the ability to survive. Maybe being strong isn’t what is important. Maybe the ability to force yourself out of bed in the morning, to force yourself to live, to force yourself to survive, maybe that’s what is important.
Maybe, just maybe, weakness is okay. At least every now and then.
I hope, wherever you are, that you’re proud of me. I promise you, Mom, that I am going to live the rest of my life out in such a way that would make you proud.
Love,
Sarah
So anyway, I enrolled at the University of Phoenix and will be getting a Bachelor of Science degree in Business Marketing. It’s only going to take me a little bit more than a year to be done. Remember when I dropped out of school all those years ago to move home when you were first diagnosed with lymphoma? I was only 4 credits shy of my Associates degree! All this time, and I was so very close to being halfway through. Typical of me, isn’t it? I can compartmentalize like no ones business.
My last day of work here is September 21st, and I’ve got to say, I am SO over it. This was just not the job for me. This morning I accepted a position with a start-up air duct cleaning company in Old Town. It’ll only be a few days a week (tops like 25 hours) so I will be able to focus on school. I’m using the money you left behind as income to live off of for the next year. I feel like in a way, I’m coming full circle with this. The reason I quit school was for you, and the reason I’m going back is because of you. You’re making it possible for me in your death to go back to school, which is something you were not able to make possible in your life.
I was talking last night to my new friend Caryn and she told me she thinks I’m one of the strongest people she’s ever known. But you know what? I don’t feel strong. Is strength synonymous with survival? Because to be honest with you, I feel like all I’ve done this year is survive. I’ve managed to get out of bed in the morning, go through the motions of my day, and mark the hours until I get to go back to bed at night. What other choice is there? You used to say you didn’t feel strong either. That you felt weak from all the terrible things you had to go through in your life and I always pooh poohed it. You seemed SO strong, always. You had moments of weakness, but those moments are what made you human instead of a superhero. Now I can relate to that feeling of weakness like never before. Maybe you weren’t strong either. Maybe you were a survivor, like me. Maybe what you left behind in me is the ability to survive. Maybe being strong isn’t what is important. Maybe the ability to force yourself out of bed in the morning, to force yourself to live, to force yourself to survive, maybe that’s what is important.
Maybe, just maybe, weakness is okay. At least every now and then.
I hope, wherever you are, that you’re proud of me. I promise you, Mom, that I am going to live the rest of my life out in such a way that would make you proud.
Love,
Sarah