So Much More Than A Mom » Death

Mixed Emotions

Cyndi — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 17:33:47 +0000

“It’s so curious: one can resist tears and ‘behave’ very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer… and everything collapses.” — Colette

We went to the movies Saturday afternoon. On the way out I stopped in the restroom. When I emerged there was a woman talking to hubby and the boys. Her back was to me and I didn’t know who she was. I walked over to them and turned around. I’m not sure if I audibly gasped or if it was only in my head. It was a friend of ours from whom we haven’t heard in quite some time. Our boys no longer attend the same schools and the mutual friend we had shared is no longer in our lives. It also seemed as if our friend in the movie theater had sort of gone into hiding a little over a year ago. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

She’s always been a reserved and private person. We never got too close. But I like her. And I have thought of her often over the past year. I sent a few e-mails that went unanswered and heard other friends had the same experience. I finally just hoped for the best and figured she’d contact me if she wanted to.

She immediately commented that she liked the pink ribbon I was wearing on my coat. The pink ribbon that Gina’s daughters passed out to all the guests at her wake. I gasped (again not sure if it was audible or not), muttered an awkward, “thank you.” without explaining where I got my ribbon or what it represents to me, grabbed the ribbon and continued holding onto it for few moments before giving her a teary-eyed hug. I asked how she was and she said good. There was some small talk about the kids and her husband and then hubby was wrapping up the conversation. I looked into her eyes for a moment. I needed more.

I told hubby and the kids to go on and I’d catch up in a minute. I had to know. She certainly looked healthy and her hair looked much like it had the last time I saw her, before her diagnosis. I asked about the cancer and her treatment. She had chemo, then a lumpectomy, then radiation and has been cancer-free since December! I was so happy for her and her family. I had to hug her again, although I know she’s even less of a touchy-feely person than I usually am. I told her how happy I was for her. We talked some more about how it’s been an “interesting” year but that the worst seems to be behind her, she feels good and is going to start looking for work. She has to stay on medication for five years and get frequent scans but so far so good.

I was awe-struck. I was standing there talking to an actual breast cancer survivor. It felt great, exhilarating even. Like I imagine talking to one of your favorite celebrities would feel. Her kids will not have to know what it feels like to lose their mother so young. Her husband will not be left alone to pick up the pieces. She can move on with her life. Absolutely amazing.

We finally parted and after I was a safe distance from her and back with my family, I lost it. Sobbing. They didn’t understand. It hit me like a ton of bricks. If things had gone differently, that could have been Gina.

An innocent afternoon at the movies with my family turned into this unbelievable encounter with a survivor.

In all fairness, her prognosis was never as dicey as Gina’s had been because she did not have the same type of breast cancer. Gina’s was the worst case scenario.

My emotions were all over the place. An almost giddy happiness for my friend and her family combined with the intense grief in knowing I will never run into Gina in a movie theater. And then the guilt. Guilt for feeling sad for one friend when another friend had beaten the odds and was thriving. An entire roller coaster of emotion within a ten minute time period.

This grief “process” is more like a relative calm before the storm immediately followed by the crashing in of an epic tidal wave with no warning.

I miss my friend.

Thanks for stopping by!

40

Cyndi — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 20:21:31 +0000

“If you wait, all that happens is that you get older.” — Larry McMurtry

I’ve put this post off long enough. I’m turning 40 in about two weeks. 40.

Remember when 30 seemed ancient?! My mother-in-law was 40 when I met my husband. She didn’t seem old to me but she certainly didn’t seem young. She seemed like any other mom. Today she’s 64. For me, those 24 years seem to have flown by in a flash. We spend our entire childhood wishing time would speed up and our adult years wishing it would slow down. It’s so….well, weird.

I actually already wrote the I’m-dreading-turning-40 post. Last year. As I said then, I like to start the inevitable panic attack as early as possible. I think that it helped writing about it a year in advance. I think I may have actually come to terms with it. With everything that I feel anxious about just about every day, this milestone isn’t really one of them. Or maybe I’m just in denial. I guess we’ll find out for sure in about two weeks.

As much as I really don’t want to seem like any other mom, I’m sure I do to my kids and their friends. I think my kids think I’m pretty cool as far as moms go, but still, I’m mom. Of course I relish my role as their mom but as is the main theme of this blog….I am also so much more than a mom. Knowing that helps me to ignore the number of candles on the birthday cake.

It seems to me that beginning with that first unfortunate event in December 2006 and ending with the most recent unfortunate event almost exactly three years later, I’ve come full circle. The death of my friend’s mother in 2006 forced me to consider my own mortality. That, in conjunction with the events in between these two pulled me out of denial, made me re-evaluate myself, my marriage, every belief I have ever had and what the hell I had allowed myself to become. The past three years have been spent dealing with the past, learning, questioning, stepping out of my comfort zone, reinventing myself, reinventing my marriage and striving to figure out who I am and who I want to be. And then going for it. I have set-backs and then take giant leaps forward. All of these changes have cured my insomnia but brought on depression, at first, and now anxiety. I’m not finished with my journey and I never will be. The reason I feel I’ve come full circle is that the most recent unfortunate event, Gina’s death, has forced me to seriously consider not my own mortality this time, but the mortality of everyone I love.

After the ups and downs of the past three years I don’t find myself dreading my 40th birthday so much. I find myself feeling grateful that I’ve made it to my 40th birthday in good health (knock on wood). I’m grateful that my friends and family are also here and in good health. Money problems, anxiety, college, work, laundry….life…they’re all part of my life but the important people in my life are really what matters most. I’m lucky. I’m still here with them.

Forty isn’t that old. I’m not too old to love, laugh, learn, travel, go to college, have fun, make changes, be naughty, be a good mom and wife, work out…the list is endless. I have lots to do. The only things I’m too old wise for are living in denial, wishful thinking, delusion and pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m not 21. Who cares? I was a moron at 21. I’m slightly less of one now and for that, and every day I am given, I am grateful. So…40? I’m not scared…Bring it!

Thanks for stopping by!

Panic ATTACKS!

Cyndi — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 21:45:25 +0000

“Too many shadows in my room / Too many hours in this midnight / Too many corners in my mind / So much to do to set my heart right” – In Repair by John Mayer

I’m not talking about actual panic attacks. I’ve come close to having one of those a couple of times and it’s a horrible feeling. But it’s been quite some time since I’ve felt that level of anxiety. I guess you could say that’s progress, right? RIGHT?!

My overall level of anxiety has been high ever since before Thanksgiving when Gina’s health started to deteriorate. In late December I took a risk by changing jobs. I realize that under usual circumstances changing jobs is not a huge risk but in this economy and in the mortgage industry…it was a risk. Then, just a few weeks later I started my dreaded statistics class.

There are certainly worse things that could have happened (besides Gina’s death of course). I think the combo of adjusting to my friend’s death, a very different type of job and a class that I not only hate, but is extremely difficult for me to grasp, was a bit much for me.

I still haven’t adjusted to Gina’s death. Yesterday her sister mentioned on Facebook that she could really use some advice from her sister. I could only respond, “me too”. I am reminded of her absence several times daily. I miss everything about her and our friendship. I still haven’t even stopped thinking from time to time that I have to call her and tell her about something that I know she would laugh about. I try to keep it in perspective. I mean if I feel this way I can’t imagine how her family, particularly her daughters feel. Then I feel guilty for missing her.

The job has been an adjustment just because the way things are set up is like nowhere else I have ever worked. I work from home now. The problem is not working from home. That I love. There was just a scary period there where I wasn’t sure it was going to work out and I wasn’t making as much money as I anticipated. Then I felt guilty for not making enough money. Luckily, the work situation is now going even better than expected. I kept telling myself that it was just growing pains but that did nothing to help my level of anxiety.

Stats. Sucks. I hate it. I don’t fully understand it. At this point I’ll be happy if I’m passing. We had our first test yesterday. I was even more anxious than usual over that test all day. Then I felt guilty for not being good enough at stats.

Are you seeing the pattern here? When I feel guilt I become anxious. And I feel guilty about almost everything. I know I’m not perfect and that no one expects me to be (except maybe myself). I know that perfectionism, worrying and anxiety don’t help any situation. I know that I’ve even written similar blog posts on this subject. Actually, now I’m starting to feel guilty about being repetitive and boring you to death.

This guilt thing is nonsense. I have to knock it off. I have to let myself off the hook. It’s causing me unnecessary turmoil. It’s not working for me at all, it never has and it never will. Beer helps but then I feel guilty for drinking too much. It’s too bad I can’t have the guilt/anxiety parts of my brain removed. I’d feel no emotional turmoil but without any guilt I’d become a criminal and end up in prison and I’m told they don’t serve beer there.

Thanks for stopping by!

Children’s Rights

Cyndi — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 04:10:21 +0000

“A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.” — Agatha Christie

When my friend Gina was first diagnosed with cancer her biggest concern was that she would die before her twin daughters turned 18. She was afraid that their biological father would take them away from everything she had worked so hard to provide: stability and love, their home, their step-father and their little sister. Throughout her battle with cancer I never once heard her complain about herself, the treatments or anything else. Her mantra never changed. She simply had to stay alive until the twins were 18. She knew she could not fall short of this because the consequences for her daughters were too horrific for her to even consider.

Her worst nightmares have come true.

Last week, less than two months after losing their mother, their biological father abruptly removed them from their school in the upscale suburb in which they have lived for more than 1/2 of their lives. He has taken them to the home of the most recent woman he is living with in a rough neighborhood. He has told them that their mother never loved them and only wanted his money. He has cut them off from all of their family and told them they will never see their step-father or little sister again. He has not even bothered to enroll them in school.

I don’t know what precipitated any of this. I do know that the girls are terrified and cut off from everyone they love, everything that is familiar and safe to them and all while still grieving the very recent death of their mother.

Her sister said it best, “Gina is counting on all of us to fix this.”.

I don’t know how to fix this. All I do know is that getting the word out through my blog may lead us to someone who can help. There is a court hearing next week in DuPage County IL. If anyone reading this knows anyone or knows someone who may know anyone that can help my friend’s daughters (attorneys, advocates, etc.) PLEASE leave a comment here.

Thank you.

Is Anything A Coincidence

Cyndi — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 05:59:25 +0000

“There are no mistakes, no coincidences. All events are blessings given to us to learn from.” — Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Coincidence:

A sequence of events that although accidental seems to have been planned or arranged.

My mood when I wrote my last post was hopeful. This was due in no small part to the fact that friends of ours were at the hospital eagerly awaiting the birth of their first baby. There is nothing like a new baby to remind us of the joys in life.

The new father in this couple is the same friend whose mother died three years ago. I’ve written about how her death was the first in a series of unfortunate events. I’ve also written about how I wondered if Gina’s death occurring almost exactly three years later meant something.

I still don’t have the answer to that question (or many others for that matter) but I simply cannot believe that it is mere coincidence that Gina died 5 days before the 3rd anniversary of the death of our friend’s mother and that his new baby missed being born on the anniversary of her death by less than 1/2 hour. His new baby was born last night. His mother died 3 years ago today.

What better way to take some of the grief out of the holidays for our friend and his family than to now get to celebrate his new daughter’s birthday at the same time? It’s still tragic that she won’t get to meet her grandma, of course. But a new life has begun and I wonder if the timing is simply just a coincidence. I am happy for our friends and can’t wait to meet the newest member of their family.

Obviously babies are blessings. No doubt. I also believe that lessons can be found in everything. But I cannot consider Gina’s death or our friend’s mother’s sudden death three years ago to be blessings. There are lessons to be learned, but blessings? I can’t see that.

Since I am connected to both the proud new parents and Gina, the timing of these two deaths and this birth seems like it must mean something. Maybe in my attempt to make sense out of my friend’s senseless death I am reading too much into this. Maybe there is such a thing as coincidence.

An acquaintance sent a well-meaning e-mail to me today wishing me a Merry Christmas and ended it by asking me to tell Gina she said hi. It was as if someone had punched me in the stomach. I really couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. I can’t tell Gina she said hi, or anything else. I’m trying, really hard, to convince myself that she will always be with me in spirit. I’m trying to stop thinking that I don’t want her with me in spirit. I want her here in reality. I’m trying not to indulge in wishful thinking. I’m trying to find some faith.

What do you think? Coincidence? Just another person in mourning looking for signs where there are none? Or something else?

Thanks for stopping by!

Back To Life

Cyndi — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 23:52:06 +0000

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” — Robert Frost

I’ve been in a sort of fog since before Thanksgiving. Ever since I learned of Gina’s rapidly deteriorating condition. Yes, I got up and went to work every day but I don’t remember much about what I did. I’ve been on auto-pilot. Luckily I had enough awareness to make a few important decisions, such as my new job and arrangements for a friend’s birthday dinner. But for the most part I’ve been out of it.

My husband has been absolutely amazing. He doesn’t like it when I’m upset. He wants to fix it. He wants me happy. There’s nothing wrong with that except that he doesn’t always get what he wants. I can’t just turn it off. He can’t just fix it. But he has been here for me in every way I’ve needed him to be. I’ve gotten lots of hugs and long talks and space. He even did pretty much all of the Christmas shopping and wrapping and house cleaning and…everything.

I realized yesterday that Christmas is next week. Holy shit! I have literally done nothing. Well, one day when I was grocery shopping I did pick up a few Christmas gifts, but that’s about it. I haven’t even purchased Christmas cards let alone mailed any. None of these things crossed my mind or even seemed important when I was reminded of them. But they are.

No, the world isn’t going to end if I don’t send out Christmas cards this year. But it is important that I live my life. That I enjoy the holidays with my family and friends. That I get back in the game. Gina would want that for me. I want that for me.

I decided I am going on another solo trip next year on Mother’s Day weekend. I registered for school this semester. I’m going out with friends this weekend. Sometimes the grief comes out of nowhere and hits me like a ton of bricks. I have to let it hit me. But then I have to let it go until the next round. Until my time on this earth is over, my life goes on and I don’t want to miss a thing.

Thanks for stopping by!

Tears Laughter & An Unexpected Gift

Cyndi — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 05:55:37 +0000

“Living well is an art that can be developed: a love of life and ability to take great pleasure from small offerings and assurance that the world owes you nothing and that every gift is exactly that, a gift.” — Maya Angelou

Gina’s wake was on Monday evening. I had to work all day and as the day progressed I moved closer and closer towards panic. As is true of everything I can immediately think of, the reality was not nearly as horrific as I imagined. Yet another reason worry and anxiety are destructive wastes of time.

As soon as we walked in one of Gina’s 14 year old twins walked right up to me to say hi. As I hugged her I told her I was so sorry (what else do you say?). She said, “It’s ok.”. This beautiful child who had just lost her mother was telling me it was ok. I’m still speechless.

That encounter got me started. I cried. And cried. And cried. I cried looking at all of the beautiful pictures of my friend.

I cried looking at the closed casket. I cried looking at her daughters, her mother, her sister and brother, her husband and her grandmother. I cried over each and every word that was spoken about her.

I laughed. I laughed when I told hubby he had to dunk the biscotti in his coffee but he tried to break off a piece instead and Gina’s grandmother told him he had to dunk it. I laughed even more when I told her that’s what I said and an aunt chimed in with, “they never listen.”. I’m fairly certain that everyone laughed when Gina’s precocious and apparently attention-loving 3 year old daughter chose the middle of the Priest’s eulogy to proclaim as loudly as possible, “Ready! Set! Go!” and then proceed to run straight across the front of the room at full speed. Repeatedly. Probably about 10 times. I laughed when her sister and I agreed that Gina told her daughter to do that because things were getting way too serious in there.

I received a completely unexpected gift from the most unexpected source. I have secretly been wondering if Gina truly knew how much she meant to me. How much I loved her. See, as close as we were, we weren’t overly vocal about our feelings or particularly affectionate. We hugged hello and goodbye and frequently said, “I love you man.”. But I had this nagging doubt. I was afraid I had failed to convey how important to me she was. As open as I am in writing, I am much less comfortable vocalizing my feelings.

My gift? Her other 14 year old twin daughter introduced me to someone as her mom’s best friend. I couldn’t breathe for a second. Then I asked hubby if I had heard her correctly. He said yes. Now, I am a 39 year old woman, well past the point in life where I need anyone to assure me that I am their one and only BFF. However, hearing her daughter say that I was her mom’s best friend absolutely meant the world to me. I know she had many other close friends. But I also now know that Gina did know how important she was to me and how much I loved her. Thanks to her daughter.

I can’t begin to imagine how her family is feeling or how they will deal with their tremendous loss. I do know that they helped me a great deal last night. I only hope I can somehow return the favor.

Thanks for stopping by!

Gone

Cyndi — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 20:39:10 +0000

“When you’re dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part

You roll outta bed and down on your knees

And for the moment you can hardly breathe

Wondering was she really here?

Is she standing in my room?

No she’s not, ’cause she’s gone, gone, gone, gone, gone….”

- Dreaming With A Broken Heart by John Mayer

Gina died around 1am this morning. I don’t know anything more than that. I couldn’t bear to hear any details. I don’t want to know. Selfish? Maybe.

I can’t believe she’s gone. I don’t know why I’m shocked. I am. Of course I knew she was dying, that there was nothing more any doctors could do for her. I think it’s still somewhat shocking because I just couldn’t believe that this feisty, brave, amazing woman could ever lose this battle. And now she’s gone.

This new job I have? She would have been all over it too. She would have been excited as hell for me and would have wanted me to pass along her resume. Immediately. It’s so bizarre that she doesn’t know about it at all. I can’t just pick up the phone to tell my friend my good news. I can’t talk to her ever again. About anything. Ever. Her phone number is stored in my cell phone. It doesn’t matter. I am thinking of calling it to hear her voice on her voice mail message. I’m afraid of who may pick up. Definitely someone for whom her death is even more painful than it is for me.

It was right around this time three years ago when another friend’s mother died suddenly. I’m sorry to say that I don’t know the exact date of her death but it was right before Christmas and it was out of the blue, completely unexpected. I realized at some point that her death marked the beginning of my unraveling. Her death was the first in a series of unfortunate events that sparked….something. I don’t know what to call it really. A downward spiral. A new journey on a path to self-awareness. All of those things.

And I wonder today, as I try to find the lesson in this unfortunate event, if this means I have somehow come full circle. I wonder if this death, almost exactly three years from the beginning of my unraveling or journey or spiral or whatever….I wonder what it means.

All I know for sure is that I miss my friend. Her passing leaves a hole in my life and I don’t know if I ever even want to stop accidentally picking up the phone to call her.

Thanks for stopping by.

I Don’t Know What I Don’t Know

Cyndi — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 05:37:21 +0000

“A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

So I was thinking some more about this whole idea of Limbo and wondering what it was that used to make my life hell when I was forced (by my own inaction or by circumstances truly beyond my control) to deal with periods of limbo.

The obvious is the unknown. When I am in limbo I am unsure of an outcome. I am waiting for something to happen, someone to get back to me or someone to take action. Fear of the unknown causes most people anxiety. For a neurotic worrier such as myself, this was hell. It’s not just fear, it’s constant worrying, dreaming up every possible worst-case scenario, dreaming up every possible acceptable scenario, secretly attached to the expectation of the best possible case scenario. It’s actually fear that my own worst-case scenario will occur or that if my best-case scenario does not occur all hope for happiness will be forever lost, not simply the fear of the unknown. This is an extreme and dramatic way to look at the unknown.

At times in the past, it was I who could have taken action but didn’t realize it. I spent my life simply reacting to things which seemed to simply happen. I had not one clue that I was capable of taking responsibility for some aspects of my life. I was not helpless or trapped by anything other than my own fear. There’s that word again. Fear. In these instances it was still fear of the unknown but also fear of making the wrong decision and having only myself to blame. Fear that others would not love me if the secret of my imperfection were to get out. Fear of failure, rejection, fear of everything.

The unknown is really just that…unknown. It’s not anything to fear. It’s pointless to fear it really. It’s certainly pointless to worry about it. Worrying has never solved a single problem for anyone. Ever. In fact, worrying is a distraction that can cloud our judgment and cause us to miss other opportunities that may come along because we’re too busy worrying about something else.

Interestingly enough, today I learned that there is a slight possibility that a doctor who practices alternative medicine might be able to help my friend Gina. It’s a long shot but definitely worth it. I wonder if her husband had simply given into worrying about what he would do after she was gone if he would have even thought to try something different since all the other doctors have said there is no hope. They are in limbo but still working on doing everything they can to get out of it. Making choices. Maybe all of your prayers and those of everyone who knows her are working. We don’t know what we don’t know.

Thanks for stopping by!

Staying Home

Cyndi — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 13:12:39 +0000

“Because this is what happens when you try to run from the past. it doesn’t just catch up: it overtakes, blotting out the future, the landscape, the very sky, until there is no path left except that which leads through it, the only one that can ever get you home.” — Sarah Dessen

I’m not certain the reason but lately I just want to stay home.

It could be grief. Grieving takes its toll. Especially grieving in limbo. When the person you are grieving is still alive but death is imminent. That is the situation with my friend right now and it was the same with my father 10 years ago. I haven’t heard from her husband since I went to visit her again on Saturday. Sometimes I almost convince myself that she’s made a miraculous recovery. Other times, when I really let myself think hard about her, I feel indescribable sadness. It’s different than it was with my father but brings up a lot of long-buried memories.

It could be that I’m on day 6 of some sort of nasty stomach flu. I don’t feel sick like I did the first two days but I still can’t really eat anything. Think I’ve lost some weight? Probably not.

It could just be this time of year. It snowed yesterday. Just flurries. Still. Snow. Bleh.

And that pretty sums up how I feel right now. Just…bleh. I just want to stay home.

I love our house. It’s not “fabulous” by any stretch of the imagination. Hell, half the time it’s not even “clean” by anyone’s standards. But the couch is warm and inviting. The other people here are some of my favorites. There are tons of books, lots of movies and no snow.

Lucky for me I’m still working from home two days a week. Working from home can be challenging because it’s so easy to get distracted and mismanage your time. But it’s nice too because I don’t have to deal with all that goes into getting to the office….traffic, getting dressed….even showering….not required. I don’t have to deal with the constant interruptions, although we are so busy right now that they come frequently enough via e-mail. It’s still much nicer working from home. It’s peaceful and comfortable.

Hubby has reconnected with some old friends on facebook and a few have planned to get together tomorrow night. I was supposed to have gotten a babysitter. I finally determined that I simply don’t feel like going. Anywhere. So, he’ll get some much-needed socialization and I’ll get some much-needed alone time. Here. At home.

Thanks for stopping by!

So Much More Than A Mom » Death

Mixed Emotions

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40

“If you wait, all that happens is that you get older.” — Larry McMurtry

Related Reading:

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Panic ATTACKS!

“Too many shadows in my room / Too many hours in this midnight / Too many corners in my mind / So much to do to set my heart right” – In Repair by John Mayer

Related Reading:

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Children’s Rights

“A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.” — Agatha Christie

Related Reading:

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Is Anything A Coincidence

“There are no mistakes, no coincidences. All events are blessings given to us to learn from.” — Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

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Back To Life

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” — Robert Frost

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Tears Laughter & An Unexpected Gift

“Living well is an art that can be developed: a love of life and ability to take great pleasure from small offerings and assurance that the world owes you nothing and that every gift is exactly that, a gift.” — Maya Angelou

Related Reading:

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Gone

“When you’re dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part

You roll outta bed and down on your knees

And for the moment you can hardly breathe

Wondering was she really here?

Is she standing in my room?

No she’s not, ’cause she’s gone, gone, gone, gone, gone….”

- Dreaming With A Broken Heart by John Mayer

Related Reading:

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I Don’t Know What I Don’t Know

“A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Related Reading:

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Staying Home

“Because this is what happens when you try to run from the past. it doesn’t just catch up: it overtakes, blotting out the future, the landscape, the very sky, until there is no path left except that which leads through it, the only one that can ever get you home.” — Sarah Dessen

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