Friday, July 25, 2014

The Vanishing Email

During the course of a conversation I had the other day with a dear friend and colleague, Kim, she made mention of something I found interesting. She told me that as she was searching her email at work for something specific, she came across the message she had received providing the information for Lauren's funeral. She went on to express how this made her take pause and contemplate the recency of the event.
Our school district's email system eventually erases messages, yet this one was still there. That is because it has only been 4 months. ¨If you feel like it was recent¨ I explained ¨I feel like it just happened yesterday.¨
It has been such a short time and yet life has returned to its normal pace for most. I look at pictures on Facebook of Lauren's friends taking trips to the beach. Or my friends engaged in political debates and posting pictures from summer vacations. All of this makes it abundantly clear that time moves on.
I don't hold any resentment toward everyone getting on with their lives, that is what is expected. I just wish it was as easy for me. I go through the motions, at times appearing at the top of my game. I have conducted meetings this summer with the greatest of ease. I come in, give em my spiel and move on. I sometimes feel like I'm running on auto pilot.
But I suppose this is a blessing, my comfort level with my current job. I probably couldn't handle changes and extra pressure right now. It's a challenge just showing up some days. My motivation to maintain the momentum of my life fluctuates wildly, between enthusiasm and dread.
To express the difficulty a control freak experiences when something out of control occurs, something life altering and devastating, I would need a lot more time than I have available. And even then I am not certain I could find the right words.
So I continue to wake each morning and convince myself to get out of bed. I follow my routines and strive to do what is expected of me. But here's the problem...I'm not sure what is expected. This is the first time my daughter died.

2 comments:

  1. I feel like it happened just yesterday too. Some days I just sit in the Cafeteria and still expect her to come bouncing in the door. I still remember the last day I seen her, the last moment she waved goodbye to me.. </3

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