I started this post with this paragraph when I was in Denver: “In case, it wasn’t obvious I love going new places and COVID has really thrown a wrench in my hopes and dreams around traveling. However, the stars aligned, and this trip was planned, life happened and the trip got changed a bit, (I internally and a bit externally panicked that it wasn’t going to happen), a friend couldn’t come anymore, but we made some adjustments and the trip was on!”
Dear past Sam, so much excitement and joy. The vivid blue skies and mountain air barely feel real anymore. They’ve already become like a distance memory.
Current Sam is feeling that this week has been long and slow and heavy. My grief is mixing with the feelings of exhaustion that come with wrapping up the school year. I teach a sixth-grade math class and I work in the lunchroom. The teacher/school employee end-of-the-year burn-out is real. Add to that being in the middle of the short trimester of counseling grad school (the trimester that moves way too fast), and I’m honestly a little confused about which emotion is coming from where. Am I stressed about school work? Lacking patience for my students? Am I feeling lost missing Emily? Does it even matter which thing I’m feeling?
In some ways, I feel like I have regressed in this whole grief thing. The weightiness has returned and the mind fog is dense. I’m not sure if I even believe grief regression is even a thing, but I still wonder about it. The truth probably lies within my type one personality. It sees that homework pile and less than stellar paper I turned in last week and is starting to put the pressure on. “Sam, snap out of it. Sam, push through. Sam, Sam.”
My counselor mentioned, “you know many people would take a semester off after something like this.” I laugh. Life feels like such a circle sometimes. I didn’t quit the semester I had the concussion and the post-concussive syndrome. I scaled back, but I didn’t quit. So I try to do the same now, scale back but keep walking. I don’t really know if that’s the smart choice, but it’s the one I’m making. I of course have dreams of going to L’Abri, grieving in the hills and in the beauty. If the timing were right, if COVID barriers were gone, I’d be on a plane yesterday.
My friends are reminding me to be kind to myself, to take things slows, that it’s ok not to be at top energy levels. I want to give myself permission to talk about Denver and the fun. To feel my grief but also to walk out of it too.
I look at this photo from Denver and the idea of climbing that staircase right now with my current energy levels feels laughable. You see, my friend, Nicole and I definitely felt the whole one mile-high altitude of Denver. We went on a little hike and then climbed to the top of the amphitheater. We took our time as we watched the Denverites run up and down the stairs. Altitude makes me queasy, it made it hard for Nicole to breathe. I was super thankful to be there with my friend Nicole, a fellow Georgian, and not one of the Denverites casually running up and down the 380 stairs at 6,000 feet altitude.
On the subject of altitude, the altitude plus jet lag combined to make us both a bit loopy. (Well it made me loopy, I won’t speak for Nicole). It’s that feeling you get when you’re a kid and you stay up really late at a sleepover. You and your friends are laughing at everything, and life feels light and joyful.
When we arrived in Denver we took a shuttle to the car rental place (my first time ever renting a car!!! Ya for being old enough!) and then headed out to find someplace to eat because it was a little too early to check into the Air Bnb. I had found a recommendation for an Arepas place that sounded really good. We went to the wrong place, walked in, sat down, and then realized it. The place we were at was super trendy: cocktails, weird furniture, beautiful sunshine, but our hearts were set on arepas. So we left and laughed at ourselves as the hostesses watched us look around confused and walk across the street to the other place.
Post delicious food we went to return to our car. I may have definitely walked right past our car. I turned around and noticed Nicole was not with me. It turns out that she had been trying to open a car door. She laughed at her failed attempt to “break-in.” And I laughed that she thought that small SUV was our car…. and we kept walking. After a while we realized we had gone too far (well Nicole realized). We turned around and retraced our steps.
Nicole told me to look for the yellow umbrellas that she had noted as our landmark that we parked beside (I internally rolled my eyes, what good is a landmark I can’t plug into my GPS, but I couldn’t say much because I had forgotten the name of the restaurant we had parked near). Low, and behold, I spotted the yellow umbrellas in the distance. We walked to our car and realized that Nicole’s earlier break-in attempts were indeed on this very car. My lesson for the day, pay more attention to what the car I’m driving actually looks like. (Also I think hatchbacks are weird.)
Most importantly, travel with people who can laugh when little hiccups happen along the way because they for sure happen.
Well, that’s all for now folks. Love ya, bye!
P.S. I wrote this like 2 weeks ago, but forgot to finish it… my bad.
My Life in A Variety of Places 