Friday, September 24, 2010

Something to Say

Honestly, I feel like I have nothing more to say here sometimes.  I love this blog; I've loved using this as an outlet for all these years.  I love looking back to where I was one year, two years ago and seeing how far I've come.

One year ago today--I was at a conference here, and people were pulling me into corners to "chat" and I came out dazed with job offers.  This set off a 7 week period of angst, of unknowing--all of which led me here.  Back to DC, back to the very same building I walked into in 2003 as a fresh-faced intern.  I've been here almost ten months.

Just ten months. 

In ten months --I moved in with a friend, found a place, made new friends, began a new job, survived my first month with the car here in June (a feat that no one outside DC will quite understand).  I made new friends. I joined a softball team.  I had friends visit.  I shook hands with Governors, with Ambassadors, with Senators.  I had my car ticketed for parking in a spot reserved for the Greek embassy.  I was on C-span, twice.  I battled through health care reform and struggled every day to keep up with coworkers FAR more advanced than I, yet making the same salary and with the same job title.  I struggled to keep relevance.

I dated, and struck out numerous times.  I went to Utah, to Washington, to Tennessee, to Rhode Island, to Missouri, to New Mexico and to Pennsylvania in the name of work.  And I think I went alot more places than that, but those are what come to mind right away.  I kissed an old friend at the waterfront in Seattle and brought him home with me that night.  I got a new kitten.

I've lost two grandparents, sandwiching my summer into a Memorial Day funeral and a Labor Day funeral.   I think of them both every single day.  I went home that weekend, and sat with my grandmother and let her show me how to make biscuits.  I held a brand-new nephew and cuddled all the other nieces and nephews against me.

I watched a movie tonight, and at one point there was a funeral scene and a 21-gun salute.  The pain of watching that flag being folded brought my grandfather to mind so heavily that I knelt to my floor and cried.  When I was done, I looked up and found both my kittens curled up beside me.

I am working through every day.  I am okay. 

For long you live, and high you fly, and smiles you give and tears you cry --and all you touch and all you see is all your life will ever be.

This quote has been a favorite of mine for so long--Pink Floyd. 

This past year has held the tears, the smiles, the touches and the million reasons tied up in my own personal meaning of life.  My friends have taken my breath away this past year -from getting on planes to be with me, to getting up at 3am to call me, to sitting outside my therapists office every morning with tea for me --they have been extraordinary.  My sisters have been, too.  I am lucky indeed.

With so much emotion rushing just under the surface, writing and reflection proves difficult.  I am reading; I am thinking of you. 

I just wish I had more to say.


Ms. Moon said...

I think you said a year's worth right there.

michelle said...

I think it is brave to simply sit with emotions and not feel the need to fill the air (or cyberair) with words just because you think you "should". This is your space. It will be here to receive your words when you are ready to write them. Sometimes, breathing and silence are all that is needed.
Take care,

TheAbsolutPINK said...

agreed. it's okay to be silent sometimes - and i know that things are not silent for you, even when you don't write here. So much has happened in a year. You are continuing this journey. I'm glad i'm on it with you.

May said...

I am so impressed with you. You may not feel amazing but you are, you are, you are.

Mel said...

What an amazing year you have had. I understand the feeling that there is nothing to say, as words so often fail. When I have nothing to say or no means to articulate my feelings because I am overwhelmed or bereft, it is the best therapy to log on and read words from those who are able. There is so much truth and beauty shared in this network of blogs, as we all try to make sense of our lives. It has helped me in ways I can barely understand to know I am not alone when I drop to my knees to cry when sorrow overtakes me, that so many of us have been there, and will likely go there again. But we are OK. I'm so glad you are OK, and that you share your story with us here. And thanks for the Pink Floyd quote, I love it. I think you said plenty, more than you know. You are amazing.

SJ said...

Thanks, all of you. I love to read your words, and I'm so glad you read mine.

Bethany said...

wow, quite a year.
i never knew you in RI!
I'm from RI, and work there.
It's so small, I probably passed you getting coffee.
Love this writing. It's beautiful really, as are you.
Keep on keeping on SJ.
You're an inspiration.
Did we get to see pics of the new kitty?
My cats have been keeping me sane too.