For months, I’ve been saying how much I hate 2013. It’s just been one thing after another, and as much as I don’t wish my life away as a general rule, I’ve been waiting for 2014.
Then it hit me: the crap didn’t start in January. It started about when I turned 40. When I was about to turn 40, everyone was asking me how I was going to celebrate this big milestone. To which I’d answer, “I’m studying for comps.” In my program, after we defend our Master’s, we have to take these comprehensive exams so we can be continued on to pursue our doctorates. They last two eight-hour days, and can be on basically anything we’ve learned in grad school. They suck the life out of you. I took mine exactly one week after I turned 40. Thing is, you don’t just bounce back from taking comps. It takes a good while. I used to say I wasn’t the same the whole rest of that semester, didn’t have the energy to focus on anything else. In retrospect, though, since my cancer was advanced by the time I was diagnosed, it’s possible my low energy was due to the cancer…. sorry to anyone who hadn’t yet taken them, who I might’ve scared. Oops.
After taking comps, a favorite great aunt died, my brother was told he was dying, he died, I got diagnosed, the cancer was worse than originally thought, I had surgery and chemo. Like I said. One thing after another. I’ve been stressed, overwhelmed, heartsick, physically sick, scared, grieving, numb, angry, you name it. So, being 40 started with comps and ended with chemo. Yuck.
And yet. It’s not quite fair to describe my year that way. It’s not the whole truth. Because through each and every one of those things, I’ve been loved. When my cohort took comps, our classmates brought a ton of wonderful food and encouragement to see us through. Seriously, it included a souffle. When we found out about my brother, I was at my parent’s house with a friend who had never met my family before. She sat with us in our grief, and both said and didn’t say all the right things, making us feel safe and loved, even though she had just had a day-long interview for internship. When my brother died, the celebration of his life was not only well-attended, but stories were shared about him that still make me tear up. And as usual, my cousins surrounded us with all the love we could take. When I was diagnosed, my classmates gave me love, even the self-professed non-huggers. The professors cried with me. Really, more than one. Both classmates and professors have brought me food while I’ve been sick from chemo. How many grad students can say they’ve been supported by the people in their program so lovingly? My family, both immediate and extended, has been steadfast in their show of support, doing everything they can think of and anything that was (is) asked of them. I’ve gotten gifts in the mail from friends I haven’t seen in years, hats made for me to protect my bald head, and more loving messages than I can even count. And 40 didn’t actually end with chemo, if I’m going to be precise. It ended with a wonderful visit from my sister and brother-in-law to celebrate my birthday. What could be better than that? Really, considering the circumstances, I couldn’t ask for more. So while it’s true that I’ve felt stress, illness, grief, fear, all those things, it’s also true that I’ve also felt all this love. This love that pervades every single day, and that I would not have experienced or really even known about had it not been for all of the pain.
I was more than happy to say goodbye to 40 this last weekend, and have decided that 41 will be markedly different. But I am also feeling fortunate to have had this last year. It was hard as Hell, sure. AND there was also so much sweetness. But more importantly, I think it taught me something more important than tallying up the good vs. the bad. Something like, it was mine. I got to feel all of those things. I got to experience them. I got to learn how to face my pain. It wasn’t a year to drift through mindlessly, but one that wakes a person up. It made me grateful for all of my experiences, and recognize that my life is richer for having had each and every one of them.
Bring it on, 41.
nopinkribbonsplease 