Little Boxes

Again with the song title/blog title. Its a problem. And this song actually has nothing to do with the point I want to make, but I kind of love it. It's also the theme song of Weeds which is one of my favorite shows. But again, not the point I want to make.

The point I actually wanted to make has to do with a much more unpleasant topic, which happens to be the fact that I'm packing for college. As my friend Kyle put it so eloquently, "Defining my life with boxes and what they can and cannot hold." And as I was telling my mother last night, I wish I could just pick up my room and drag it up to Western. I've put so much time and energy into making my room the very essence of my being. In addition, I have a tendency to keep things that have no apparent meaning to anyone else, but hold a great deal of meaning to me. Clearly the features of a future hoarder.

I started packing a few days ago, and now I lay in my barren room. Posters and pictures pulled off the wall, things taken off shelves, and an empty closet and drawers. Boxes shoved in the corner, as full as humanly possible. Constant texts to the roommate asking what I should and shouldn't bring. Arguments with myself about what I should and shouldn't bring. Apologies to items being left behind, much like that of a five year old who can't sleep with all their stuffed animals.

This was roughly the time my excitement for college shifted and turned into anxiety and fear. And then came the breakdown when I realized all the feelings I'd been putting away when it came to college. Let me do a quick recap of my life for you; I've grown up an only child for the last 18 years. Therefore I'm not used to sharing things at my house, although I wouldn't say I have an only child complex. My parents got divorced when I was young, so I'm used to all my mother's attention pretty much whenever I want it. I'm also used to seeing and interacting with my mom on a daily basis. I will no longer be able to wander out into my entry way and call up to my mom that I'm sick and need her to take care of me.

Needless to say, there's a lot of internal conflict going on right now.

What Sarah Said

So the title of this post comes from a Death Cab for Cutie song of the same name that has been playing through my head since I found out about the death of a family friend named Richard last night.

Death is a funny thing. Richard had a heart condition that he was going to have a surgery for next Thursday, but even with the surgery he was only going to have a year to live. This past weekend, everyone he was close to, from all around the country, came out for a big birthday party for him, because we weren't sure if he'd be around for his birthday next year. Although I'd only met him twice, my mom's boyfriend Michael had been friends with Richard and his wife for 35 years. He went over there at least once a week, lived with them for a period of time and was the nanny for their children for 7 years. He'd taken to calling Richard's wife Sandra "Mom" instead of using her actual name.

When my mom told me the story of what happened, it seemed that Richard knew he was going to die. He had spent the day with his wife, his brother and their friend. On a ferry ride home he sent his wife away with his friend, encouraging them to walk around the ferry and enjoy the view. Shortly after he told his brother that the others would be meeting at the car, so he should wait there. After a while Richard's brother came back to see what was taking Richard so long and he found him dead, bleeding from where he hit his head after he had a heart attack that caused him to fall to the ground.

A friend was with me when I found out and when I told him the story he commented that it seemed like something out of a movie or a book, where everyone knew a character was going to die from some life threatening condition, but then they die far before they were supposed to.

Like I said, I'd only met the man once, but as many of you know I've had a lot of people close to me die in a very short amount of time. Now, whenever anyone I know dies all of those emotions flood back to me as if my father, grandfather or grandmother had just died again. And now as I sit here thinking about them, I realize that they are all going to miss yet another great milestone in my life. I can't write or call to tell them about school or about how stressed I am about packing or try to explain my roommate to them.

My dad died shortly before my 17th birthday, on April 14th, 2011. That was the worst day of my life. You always remember where you were when something terrible happens to you. I had just gotten home from school, and my mom (who had been out of town but raced back to be there with me) got home before I was in the front door. I had just received an Easter present from my grandma and I was opening it when my mom came in and told me what happened. My father died of a heart attack, caused by his kidney disease. He died alone and his roommate found him hours later.

Words cannot describe the pain you go through when something like that happens. Nothing else in life prepares you for something that intense. I just cried all the time. I cried the whole night after I found out, I cried when I got calls from my aunt and uncles telling me how sorry they were, I cried when my aunt sent me the ashes. Still to this day, almost anything involving my dad makes me cry. Especially around his birthday, Father's Day, and the anniversary of his death.

And while my dad's death made it easy to write my Western application essay when asked how overcoming a hardship has changed my life, it took so much away from me. He missed my 18th birthday and my high school graduation. He'll miss me graduating from college. He won't be there to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day or to be a grandfather to my future children. I'll never be able to repair our broken relationship. I never got to say goodbye.

But life happens, and then we recover and ultimately move on in some way or another. While my dad's death was devastating, I am so much stronger because of it. Just like I know Michael will be because of Richard's death, although the recovery is never fun. Life throws so many curve balls at us, and all we can do is sit and wait for them and hope we have the strength to get out of bed the next morning.