unknown

To wake up each day is to face the unknown.
What will happen today? Will I find something new?
To leave my house each day is to face the unknown.
Will stepping on my bus be the last thing I do?
To enter my work is to face the unknown.
Will I make a difference in someone's life today?


I struggle each day since Stephen's death to find meaning in my life. To find meaning in this chaos. I don't know if I ever will get any answers and I am nearly certain I never will. I sit in my apartment on a Sunday night and contemplate what my life is (this is a fairly regular Sunday night ritual). This much I know:

I have a family who loves me (even if we're not speaking to one another, the love IS there).
I have people who love me just as much as my family does.
I have a puppy who loves me even when I lock him in the bathroom for being naughty (it's only for two minutes).
I have a stable job with security.
I know what I want to do in three years and have a plan to get there.
I have some faith that I'm here for a reason, but no knowledge of why.

These are the things I have. Yet all too suddenly they can be taken away. What would be left?

A memory of a woman with possibilities not taken...chances unknown...choices rejected. How long would I linger in the thoughts and hearts of those I know? Would it really make a difference to know that answer?

Seeing all the people who came together after my brother's death has made me realize that we touch more lives in ways we never will know. So what touch have I made? What difference did I make, by action or inaction?

I want my life to have meaning. I feel that most days I don't have any real purpose. That I'm hiding out in South Korea and getting by on the skin of my teeth. I have no one beholden to me and I am beholden to no one. It's lonely most days. I think about the fact that my dog has a serious heart condition that may mean he may not live one or two years (then again, he may surprise us all). What will happen once he's gone and I'm alone again? I have promised myself I won't rescue another dog in Korea (I mean, come on, look at my track record here...) but then I'll have to face it again, that I am well and truly alone in this life here.

Tonight Sarah asked me, while eating the remains of my peach cobbler, why I wasn't married already with my awesome cooking skills. I have to face that fact every day that I come home to an empty apartment with no one who wants to know how my day went. My brother Jo is engaged now. I'm really happy for him and Holly both. I pray they have a happy and long marriage and life together. But hearing the news made me feel much older than my 27 years. With death and marriage happening so soon together in my family, I sense some urgency to live. I have a sudden longing I didn't know was there. I want a witness to my life and I want to be witness to someone's life as well.

Life ends all to often before it really begins. The ache will never go away, the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me want to puke happens every time I see my brother's picture or hear a song that reminds me of him. I hate what has happened to me and my family. I hate the rift that has occurred and fear the damage that has been inflicted that may never heal if fate strikes again. "It's not fair" my students tell me. Yes, you're right, it's just not fair.