Life has gotten interesting. Perhaps there were hints of it when I last posted. If there were, I wouldn't have noticed them because I was busy pretending I was fine. Deep breathing solves a lot but can't change some realities.
Today I learned that one of my former students committed suicide. This impacts me deeply and personally for many reasons. When I was her age, I attempted suicide for the first time. The next time I tried, I was 25. Clearly, I failed. Because of that failure, I have the complicated, beautiful, scary, and unique life that I have. Because she succeeded, she never will.
The fact that she will never graduate high school, never dance at her own wedding, never give birth to a child or hold a partner's hand while she does, never spin under the stars on her birthday again, breaks my heart into shards. She would have been 17 in a month. I'm not sure why that matters so much to me. Maybe it is because I view each birthday that passes in my life as a chance to start again.
This fall has brought so many changes to my world: my 9 year marriage ended, I've returned to work, I've fallen in love with an amazing woman. It is hard on this random Wednesday morning to realize that it could all end in a moment or a decision made in pain for any of us. My dear student was so sweet, so kind, and so unable to see what was possible. We all get in that place. It's dark, and hot enough that it is hard to breathe, but it isn't necessary to stay there. I've spent a few nights in that room recently, when my children were with their dad and I was alone enough to realize that the future I had imagined for us was never going to look like I'd thought. I felt the fear, the loss, the grief, and thought that my pain needed to end. But, I'm older now, and my perspective has changed.
I love Jasmine, my sweet student, and I feel an intense amount of loss for her choices. I want to hold her mother in my arms, to comfort her in this time and the ones to come. One understanding I am facing today is that a permanent solution like this is not an option in my world. I knew that in the hypothetical, and it got me out of that dark, hot room every time. But now, I know it in the literal. My daughters deserve their crazy, cranky, ditzy, imperfect Mama. I may not always do it right, but as long as it is in my control, I'm going to stick around to do it again.
From pain comes gifts, sometimes unexpected ones. May you hug the ones you love close to you today, who knows what tomorrow holds.
2 comments:
Beautifully said. The tears in my eyes are testament to that.
Amanda... although I've sensed that you were immersed in changes, I had no idea what your journey has been until now, and oh, how I admire your courage, grieve the loss of your dear student from afar, and feel inspired by your beautiful words.
And hey, to me, you're still my cousin. Many many hugs headed your way.
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