A More Subdued Birthday

On August 4th, I turn 30 years old. I’ve been considering for months what this milestone birthday would mean to me - joked with my friends about my body giving out, examined and reframed my personal goals, tried to make plans even though I’m working summer school.

But just last week, something happened that has completely thrown me out.

She was the first “school roommate” I’d ever had; I was wary at first, since you never know what kind of personality you’ll end up with or if you’ll get along. But it turned out to be a match made in heaven. She had an insane love for teaching and was always bringing her experience and new ideas to the team and the class. She was my backup in math (not my strongest subject), always willing to help when I got lost and clarifying where the kids (and often me) were confused. She made sure the coffee was stocked and was always a listening ear; in the mornings before the kids arrived, we shared many stories about our lives and families.

After that first year, she moved to another grade level and I didn’t get to see or speak to her as much. The pandemic made it worse, but we would still connect at meetings or randomly check in with each other.

This summer was the most I’ve seen her in a while; I’m teaching 5th grade, she 3rd grade. We would speak in the morning, and two weeks in I decided to adjust my class’s recess time so that we went out together and I could hang out with her while the kids played. It was just like old times; we talked about “In the Heights” and other musicals, updated each other on our families, and just spent time together.

Last Monday, she said she wasn’t feeling well and probably should have stayed home that day, but she pushed through - finding subs is hard enough during the regular school year, but summer school? An act of Congress. I remember her voice as we parted in the parking lot: “See you tomorrow, my dear!”

Tuesday morning when she wasn’t at school (unusual, since she was always very early), we found out that she was in the ER. We were worried, but didn’t think too much about it since she had asthma and it had sent her to the ER before.

Wednesday we got the news. She’d had a pulmonary embolism and was on life support. The prognosis wasn’t good.

Thursday the doctors weren’t able to find any brain activity.

Friday morning she was gone.

This is, without a doubt, one of the hardest things that I’ve ever lived through. I spent the weekend shattered, frequently checked on by my close friends and loved ones as I cried through the waves of emotions that crashed into me. I didn’t know how to else to cope, how to process this sudden loss, so I cried. And cried. And cried.

By Sunday I was somewhat better. I could think about her without bursting into tears, and I completed my normal Sunday routine to prepare for the coming week. I knew that the students wouldn’t necessarily be sensitive to the healing process, so I braced myself.

Not enough.

Children have to be taught things like empathy; however, I wasn’t in the headspace for it. My patience was thinner than normal, and all I wanted to do was go home and not have to be the adult in the room. But it’s the last week of summer school, and I probably have less concentration for writing sub plans than I do for actively monitoring kids. Monday was hard, to say the least.

I never imagined that I’d be headed into 30 grieving for a friend. While I do plan on celebrating, it’s more of an effort on my part because I’d love to just stay home by myself and be sad. But I know that doing so would do nothing to help me.

What has been reinforced for me, however, is the importance of a close circle of friends who will have your back. One friend constantly checks in; my parents and sister offered constant prayers and support; another friend reminds me the importance of giving yourself the permission to go through the grief, rather than putting on a brave face; another friend has offered to go to the memorial with me. These people have given me strength when I didn’t have my own, and I thank God for that.

Many things about my life have changed over the past year; I’m going to a new school, I’ve finished a first draft of a novel that I’m extremely proud of, and I’ve had a new focus on my personal growth.

I can’t say what 30 will bring. I’ll continue to set goals and pursue them, and to continue cultivating friendships and relationships that allow me to have the support and love that I need.

God-willing, next year will be more of a joyful occasion.