I'm Still Alive!

Sorry it's been a while since I last wrote, but I've been busy beyond all reason with assignments of many varieties (speaking of, I should probably be working right now, but this is for mental health). I've thought of a plethora of brief anecdotes and observations I could share, but I'll post those another time - hopefully soon.

For now, I want to talk about today. Not "what I did today," but on the significance of September 29th. It is one of those dates I will never forget, since it has been an eventful day in almost every year of the recent past.

Three years ago today, my youngest niece (until next year) was born, breaking the tie in the niece/nephew ratio for our family. She has been a joy in the lives of all who meet her, just as delightful as her cousins. In her little lifetime, she has shown me the pure, childlike love spoken of in the scriptures and has, on several occasions brought tears to my eyes. To feel her small, tender hands reach to hug me is an irreplaceable experience - one that even now cannot be recalled with dry eyes. Today I am reminded of how grateful I am that she is part of my "famoly."

Two years ago today, something else happened in our family. Having celebrated the aforementioned birthday over the weekend, we all met on this Monday - with out-of-state brothers on the phones - to learn that my parents would be divorcing just short of their 30th anniversary. Regardless of the surrounding circumstances, an announcement so out of the blue induces shock along with a myriad of emotions - mostly tearful. It is a hard thing to learn just before one's 18th birthday that the perceptions about one's home and family for all those years will no longer be accurate, and perhaps never were. It took many weeks and months - perhaps still years - to work through our grief; such change is not easy, no matter how necessary it is. Some forget more swiftly than others, but I am brought to recall the many tearful nights spent alone and with my siblings, and grieve for my own past self.

This year, 9/29 was a fairly usual Wednesday, but I have been brought to remember another painful piece of the past. Today is the day my former datee began his two years as a missionary - the first two weeks of which will be spent at my place of employment, the training center. As was hinted in a previous post, things did not end well between us, and while I am glad he has taken this step (I did care very much for him this time last year), I feel uncomfortable chancing an encounter by donning my mail room apron. It was made known to me that my associations with this person were the means of turning him toward a more constructive path of life, so for that much I am grateful. Today I felt a few shadows of sorrow, but the tears do not come anymore in this thing, for there were far, far too many in months past. I still await a feeling of closure, as though it is an envelope that will not seal, when I have other letters yet to write.

As months pass, the tears will dry - at least those of sorrow, I hope - and perhaps next September will bring more reasons to rejoice.

These are the Future...

I am now back at school and one week into classes. The reality that I wish I could ignore has started creeping back into my life. Don't get me wrong; I love school and learning and classes - even tests. Really. The problem is the classmates, and it always has been.

In university-required classes, students complain - a lot - because they somehow feel that prerequisites are squelching their creative souls. They lash out by playing Solitaire or Farmville on their laptops. Way to be. I was hoping to escape their whiny slackertudes upon beginning my major studies this semester, but I find that my cohorts are STILL complaining about how boring a class is, or lamenting the fact that they have to be there. Last I checked, majors are one of the optional parts of one's college experience. I selected the major of Wildlife and Wildlands Conservation, as did many of the angsty students - unfortunately - and I'm sadly realizing that there is an inescapable evil in my world: There will always be the obnoxious ones.

No matter how engaging or enriching I find a study to be, there will be at least ten head of classmates that refuse to enjoy anything about the class. I have a professor who is passionate about plant life and listening to lecture gets me excited to learn as much as I can. But I hear the blond, tight-jeans-with-high-heels girl a few rows up complaining about how lame the class is. I cannot for the life of me understand why she is in a major all about things living when she couldn't care less about any thing's life other than her own and that of whatever guy she finds most attractive that week. There are plenty of girls like that around here. This probably won't be the last you'll hear on the subject from me. I can only pray she will marry some nice RM who doesn't care about brains and decide to quit the major. Because as important as patience and charity are, I'm not strong enough to be in classes with that type of person for three more years. Hopefully the Second Coming isn't too soon, because I'm clearly not ready.

I want to be with people who love learning and understanding like I do. I am in awe at the plants and animals - and world - that our Heavenly Father has created and I feel honored to learn about and work with them. I have chosen this major because it's what I love; it certainly won't make me wealthy beyond all reason, and it isn't highly prestigious, but I actually want to be here. I worry that some of the people around me chose the major as a safety - "Well, it seems fun and ya don't have ta be to smart, so... why not?" - I mean, it certainly isn't law school, but I feel rather insulted by the group in which I find myself.

All I can do is pray that I will resist the urge to smack people... Maybe you should pray too.