Figuring it out

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I’d like to say the drought is because we’ve been traveling, but really, I’ve lost my words. Some days I feel like sharing, on others, I’m at a loss for what to say, not because life is boring, but rather, because there’s too much swirling in my head. My brain is a jumbled mess of confusing crossroads, steep hills, and quiet valleys. Since Craig’s death, our lives have been on the move. In some respects, my life is still unsettled. While I was in Denver, my contract with UNDP ended, so now, after fourteen months of involuntary change, I have the unique opportunity of voluntarily changing everything -- life, career, and location. The world is my oyster, so to speak. So where do I go? Washington, D.C.

Yes, I’m typing from Erin’s apartment while she works across the street. Her commute is horrendous, by all standards. Sometimes, the two walk signs she has to navigate en route to her office (located across the street) can last a few minutes each, dragging her walking time to over five minutes. Thankfully, there’s a coffee shop on the corner, just in the event she gets thirsty between cross-walks. Why she doesn’t move across the street and shave a few minutes off her commute is beyond me. It’s a tossup on the longest commute: Erin with her two crosswalks, or Craig with his one-block walk. I feel like an old grandmother with my sad tales of having to wait hours for a crowded bus to take me to work, or walking 45 minutes in the Bangkok heat and pollution to my apartment because it was a faster mode of transportation. Ah, kids these days; they’re so spoiled.

Needless to say, we’re in DC. Erin and I arrived a little over two weeks ago after spending a night in Indianapolis with Greg and Jodi (thanks for putting us up!). The drive from Stillwater was mostly uneventful, except for one episode of kitty cat "emotional toileting", which required us to stop off in Terra Haute to clean Sammie’s cage. (Think exorcist projectile vomiting, but of another variety.) We arrived in D.C. around 9 p.m. Sunday evening, which was also Craig’s one month anniversary. After taking a few moments to unpack the cats and our things, Erin and I paused to toast a glass to Craig, and to ourselves. We’ve had a rough road of it, and though it may be a tad presumptuous to say that the worst is behind us, we felt content saying just that (apart from the grieving that lies ahead). It’s times like these that I look back to New Years and think to myself, maybe I should have included a year of no illness in my New Year’s resolution. But, though there are no guarantees in life, I feel confidant and saying that the next year will different – and deservingly so.

After honoring Craig’s anniversary, Erin and I began considering where we are and what we need to do as individuals, colleagues, sisters, friends and daughters to begin the path of healing. We decided that keeping busy helps. So far, we’ve toured DC, visited a patch of natural falls just outside Silver Spring, gone to football watch parties, rock climbed, and joined “meet up” groups. We’ve seen Obama speak, and Sarah Jessica Parker 'direct' (she’s filming a pilot for a spin-off to Sex and the City in Adams Morgan). We’ve seen a shoplifter sprint for his life with a security officer close on his heels. I’ve witnessed a bus driver get into two long-winded altercations, complete with name calling and “nooo, you are!” comebacks, with his passengers. (The police had to escort one passenger from the bus, though, honestly, they should have escorted the bus driver. Perhaps bus driving isn’t the best line of work for a hot head prone to schoolyard fights.)

More importantly, I’ve been interviewing. Though I’m still keeping my options open for working abroad, I’m also considering working in the DC area for a change. Interviewing at this point in my life is a little unnerving; I don’t feel at my best. Whereas others have continued on in their field, I’ve been out of the loop, so to speak, for the past year or so. Though I’m confident in my knowledge and understanding, I still feel uncomfortable in my own skin, which is something I’ll have to get used to. Moving back to the States will also be difficult. I haven’t lived State-side since 2002. My friends, job, and life are in Bangkok. To have to say goodbye to familiarity amidst so much loss, and start anew is frightening. It’s also oddly liberating. I have an opportunity to set my own path, to change the aspects in my life that needed changing. There are so few opportunities for such transformative change.

Plunging back into the work is not the only thing that will take getting used to. Being with people is also difficult. My first instinct is to tell the world what just happened, but not everyone is interested, which is hard. To be forgotten is one thing, but to be ignored is another. People listen with only half an ear, and are eager to move onto a more uplifting topic than cancer. I don’t blame them. No one likes a Debbie Downer, or so we’re told. Our culture applauds the eternally optimistic and super fun loving, yet, with a whisper and a sigh, turns its back on sadness and grief. It’s an interesting phenomenon, and one that I can understand. I like to think it’s because people feel uncomfortable and don’t know if by talking about it, they would be intruding on another’s grief, or perhaps feed the sadness by bringing up “bad memories.” Grief is a minefield and it’s hard to know what to do. But, it’s my experience that something is better than nothing.

Despite all the uncertainty, it feels good to be doing something, to feel like I’m moving forward. I’m still learning about myself, and about what I need as I continue to come to terms with losing Mom and Craig. The next few months and years will no doubt be our hardest. There will be days where life seems to click, and others where it seems to be falling apart. Finding a balance will be the hard part. Yet, by joining groups and engaging in activities, I feel like I’m laying the groundwork for better days to come. I know I won’t be walking this path alone. –J