salience
October 27, 2004
And I've decided it's a good thing, right now. Senior year is a blur, I feel like it's passing so quickly. Already it's Halloween, the semester will be over before I know it. It was that weird problem, seeing one another all of the time since we do so many of the same things, but never really spending time together. Just because there is no more time to be had. Last semester, this summer, that was never a problem. Maybe we'll never have time like that again, who's to say?? Things are different now, we're different now. And really that's what happens, life continues. It's too overwhelming right now, being responsible to someone else. And now I see, I think, neither one of us wants to walk away. We're not, in fact. But taking a break. He's wearing his ring, me my necklace. It's impossible for me to erase him from my life, even if I wanted to: his memories, his things, he himself, he's everywhere in my life. Isolating him would erase me. Maybe once we take care of ourselves, sort our directions and plans out, get back to where we each want to be, then maybe the picture will be clearer and not so impressionistic confusing up close, like this.
October 26, 2004
He rearranged his life because he thought it would make him happy, he says. Dropped this, added that. But now all he is is sad, apathetic, unwilling. And I'm not a cause, but an influence, he adds. And he doesn't need that anymore. Possibly ever again.
Mi vida since February has now ended as I've known it.
Siempre adelante, right??
Mi vida since February has now ended as I've known it.
Siempre adelante, right??
October 25, 2004
1948 Dodge Carivan miles later we are back at BC. Alumni always list traveling to South Bend from Boston for the game as one of their most memorable college experiences. And now I can honestly say that I understand. If you think about it for too long, you'll get wrapped up in the details. How many actual hours did we spend in Indianna?? Well, there was the drive out, the hotel stay in Michigan, the game day experience (a total of eight hours), the drive to Alex's house in Ohio to spend the night (4 hours) and then the drive back (with stops, 12 hours).
The game was close, as always. But, for my entire Boston College undergraduate career, BC swept the Irish. This year 24-23. And was victory sweet.
We were behind for the entire first half of the game, and it wasn't until the fourth quarter when anyone of us started to maybe consider almost that our team might win, that we hadn't driven all the way out to the corn fields to see our team lose. Amazing.
Some highlights:
-Kelly drooling lollipop out of the sliding van door in front of some poor guy and his kid outside the hotel
-Meeting one of the ND band grad assistants, very much like our section instructors at BC, only less responsible and with more plaid
-Spending time with Florita's old TAMser Rachel, now a senior at ND, who was crazy
-Sing a longs in the car
-Flora's Care Bear snarf rain boots we teased her for until she was the only one at the game with dry feet
-Getting soaked in the pouring rain before the game had even started
-Watching the ND stadium gig
-Kelly getting kicked out of the game because she was sitting in the band section
-Jen leaving her first BC sporting event to be with Kelly
-Chanting "We are BC" with hundreds of other SueprFans as we all filed out of the stadium
-the incessant your mom jokes
-shell actually leaving her purse at Alex's, oops
-driving back onto BC campus/returning home after a safe and successful trip
The game was close, as always. But, for my entire Boston College undergraduate career, BC swept the Irish. This year 24-23. And was victory sweet.
We were behind for the entire first half of the game, and it wasn't until the fourth quarter when anyone of us started to maybe consider almost that our team might win, that we hadn't driven all the way out to the corn fields to see our team lose. Amazing.
Some highlights:
-Kelly drooling lollipop out of the sliding van door in front of some poor guy and his kid outside the hotel
-Meeting one of the ND band grad assistants, very much like our section instructors at BC, only less responsible and with more plaid
-Spending time with Florita's old TAMser Rachel, now a senior at ND, who was crazy
-Sing a longs in the car
-Flora's Care Bear snarf rain boots we teased her for until she was the only one at the game with dry feet
-Getting soaked in the pouring rain before the game had even started
-Watching the ND stadium gig
-Kelly getting kicked out of the game because she was sitting in the band section
-Jen leaving her first BC sporting event to be with Kelly
-Chanting "We are BC" with hundreds of other SueprFans as we all filed out of the stadium
-the incessant your mom jokes
-shell actually leaving her purse at Alex's, oops
-driving back onto BC campus/returning home after a safe and successful trip
October 21, 2004
Cue the celebratory frenzy of new england wide sox hysteria.
October 20, 2004
1. The visit home was needed. I'm getting used to how things are now. Two households. Out of everyone, it seems I am the most accepting of it all. Of course, I am the only one removed, but I think it has something to do with what I've been convinced to do about it with my time here at BC as well.
2. Interviews have started. As if this time of midterms and whatnot isn't stressful enough, we might as well be deciding where we want to work next year too. And even if things could go better each time I sit down to play the game, at least I know I look professional. At least I can look the part. Ha.
3. Just in case you live under a rock and aren't aware of the rivalry between Holy Cross and Jesuits, which translates into a bitter feud between Catholic brothers Notre Dame and BC, go educate yourself. (Read: we've beaten ND my three years here...) The game is this Saturday, my brother's birthday. It is in South Bend this year AND we have tickets. Yep, that's right, folks. Dave secured all juniors and seniors in the band tickets to the game. We're not playing, but look for us on tv. We'll be that block of gold superfan ness in the stands. :) We're all caravaning out in vans and RVs, making the 900 mile trek Friday morning. Possibly even stopping at alex's house in Columbus, OH for part of it. This will be my first normal student, non bandnick, college game ever, I can't wait!!
4. And, just like last year, I've tried to avoid it. But I go to school here, and I'm sucked in by association:
Sigh. Here we go again...
2. Interviews have started. As if this time of midterms and whatnot isn't stressful enough, we might as well be deciding where we want to work next year too. And even if things could go better each time I sit down to play the game, at least I know I look professional. At least I can look the part. Ha.
3. Just in case you live under a rock and aren't aware of the rivalry between Holy Cross and Jesuits, which translates into a bitter feud between Catholic brothers Notre Dame and BC, go educate yourself. (Read: we've beaten ND my three years here...) The game is this Saturday, my brother's birthday. It is in South Bend this year AND we have tickets. Yep, that's right, folks. Dave secured all juniors and seniors in the band tickets to the game. We're not playing, but look for us on tv. We'll be that block of gold superfan ness in the stands. :) We're all caravaning out in vans and RVs, making the 900 mile trek Friday morning. Possibly even stopping at alex's house in Columbus, OH for part of it. This will be my first normal student, non bandnick, college game ever, I can't wait!!
4. And, just like last year, I've tried to avoid it. But I go to school here, and I'm sucked in by association:
Sigh. Here we go again...
October 9, 2004
I kept pushing you away to see if you'd come back, and you did. Everytime. This depression isn't me, just something I have to deal with. I'm not alone. And no one can really feel what I'm going through, understand what it's like. But that's true of any situation. Individual experience is all perspective. I was trying to blanket everything. I mean, I knew you were affected, but I didn't realize how much control I had over how you were affected. The idea of it being me, but not at the same time. I can't lose my grip on who I am when I get sad. ...yeah, it's been a long eight months of not realizing that until now, indeed.
It's safe to say that I am in a contemplative place right now. "Crisis" is an extreme, alienating, instantaneous term, which can be applied to any situation really. And along the lines of treat-something-as-such-and-it-will-become-that mentality, I don't want to think of my life in that way.
Eight months later the full weight of the death of my abuela is hitting. And it's not a constant pain usually, it's triggered by memories. Last night I couldn't get what her handwriting looked like out of my head. I could't sleep because I kept hearing her laugh. And even though I was smiling, I was crying. And my mind kept returning to the image of her casket, and all of the pictures my cousin Lori had placed around her corpse of all of us, all together, doing so many things, with abuela. We didn't know she had done it until we went up to the kneeler to say goodbye at the viewing. And we knelt down, my cousin Cynthia and I together, as always, unsure of what exactly to do. It was so final, so last minute and then there we were, staring at us from the satin lining our parents chose...
It's an indescribable shock.
And maybe I'm just feeling it now because I'm so removed, time-wise, situation-wise. It bugged me so much that I couldn't cry at the funeral, like there was something wrong with me. Now I can't help it, I can't stop it. She's gone, but I remember her so clearly.
I'm going back to Alpharetta in a week. To maybe see mi hermano play, to maybe see my babies play. As much as I prepare myself, I know it's going to hurt, even more so than it does now. La mama's stuff will be gone. Her furniture fifteen minutes away. Her handwriting gone with the kitchen calendar. Her shoes in the entryway and by the back door no longer waiting for chores. Her closet will be a quarter full with clothes el papa still wears, but her counter in the bathroom will be bare. Her laundry will not be waiting by the washer nor dryer. All of these details I pictured whenever I thought of "home" have been erased.
This is mi familia now.
This is where I come from.
It's senior year and while the anticipation of the "real world" is setting in, I'm not panicking. Yes, I am not continuing with school, I will be getting a job. The idea is to make as much money in as little time as possible, preferably in the New York City area. Friends will be separated. My identity in the groups I've been a part of for the majority of mi vida will be dismantled. Life will go on and we will grow.
The tricky thing is, it's all one minute at a time.
Slow motion light capture of a scene that never slows down.
Eight months later the full weight of the death of my abuela is hitting. And it's not a constant pain usually, it's triggered by memories. Last night I couldn't get what her handwriting looked like out of my head. I could't sleep because I kept hearing her laugh. And even though I was smiling, I was crying. And my mind kept returning to the image of her casket, and all of the pictures my cousin Lori had placed around her corpse of all of us, all together, doing so many things, with abuela. We didn't know she had done it until we went up to the kneeler to say goodbye at the viewing. And we knelt down, my cousin Cynthia and I together, as always, unsure of what exactly to do. It was so final, so last minute and then there we were, staring at us from the satin lining our parents chose...
It's an indescribable shock.
And maybe I'm just feeling it now because I'm so removed, time-wise, situation-wise. It bugged me so much that I couldn't cry at the funeral, like there was something wrong with me. Now I can't help it, I can't stop it. She's gone, but I remember her so clearly.
I'm going back to Alpharetta in a week. To maybe see mi hermano play, to maybe see my babies play. As much as I prepare myself, I know it's going to hurt, even more so than it does now. La mama's stuff will be gone. Her furniture fifteen minutes away. Her handwriting gone with the kitchen calendar. Her shoes in the entryway and by the back door no longer waiting for chores. Her closet will be a quarter full with clothes el papa still wears, but her counter in the bathroom will be bare. Her laundry will not be waiting by the washer nor dryer. All of these details I pictured whenever I thought of "home" have been erased.
This is mi familia now.
This is where I come from.
It's senior year and while the anticipation of the "real world" is setting in, I'm not panicking. Yes, I am not continuing with school, I will be getting a job. The idea is to make as much money in as little time as possible, preferably in the New York City area. Friends will be separated. My identity in the groups I've been a part of for the majority of mi vida will be dismantled. Life will go on and we will grow.
The tricky thing is, it's all one minute at a time.
Slow motion light capture of a scene that never slows down.
