Where to Begin?

My first chance to write about the events of the past few days and I'm feeling slightly hungover (no alcohol involved, mind you). Well, I suppose I should first say I'm writing from my new apartment, in front of a window with a slightly obscured but otherwise lovely view of Humboldt Bay (a view I'm sure will be much more impressive on a morning not quite so overcast as this). Boxes surround me, begging to be sorted through and unpacked, yet I'm not prepared to begin the process just yet. Last night's initial box emptying and computer set-up took enough out of me.

A minor medical emergency (now there's an oxymoron) with my brother this weekend scared the living hell out of my sister-in-law and me, not to mention freaked Amir out a good deal. Waking up in the back of an ambulance--not certain why you're there--can do that to a person. A terrifying episode (some sort of seizure) at home followed by several hours in the emergency room is enough to ruin anyone's weekend, but we didn't let it put a damper on our evening plans for a wonderful barbecue with friends, all of whom, in their seemingly endless concern for Amir, followed him around throughout the evening, asking how he was doing and making sure he was never alone. Rarely does one meet such a warm, caring and lovely group of people (and damn good barbecue chefs to boot!).

Now, the aftermath of a traumatic event settles in. Because we have few answers for what caused the episode and no clue whether to expect a recurrence, we are all somewhat on edge. And, as any medical or other such emergency is likely to do, the experience has left me appreciating my family just that much more. I talked to a friend Sunday who recently learned his mother is dying of cancer. He is 29; she about the same age as my mother (a very young 56). The thought of losing a parent or any family is upsetting and frightening on so many levels it is difficult to put the feeling into words (though it's a feeling I imagine every human being experiences at some time or another).

The immediate or lingering fear of losing someone you love is universal, sadly, but it's one that does a grand job of putting other aspects of your life into perspective. It forces us to realize what's truly important in life and proves that the junk littering our daily lives is not. If I've learned one important thing in 32 years it's that the fear of losing someone should not be the reason you reach out to that person--expressing your love requires no such specific motivation.

Whatever nagging doubts I have had about leaving New York and starting anew in a place so drastically different are assauged by my remembering that one of my reasons for returning west was to be closer to my family. Whatever challenges or obstacles I've faced since I've been here are worth it--the time spent with my brother and sister-in-law over the past three months has been invaluable. Even if I decide not to stay here, choosing to return to New York or head off to parts unknown, spending time with my immediate family (a rare treat when living in New York) and close friends has made this portion of my life's journey infinitely sweeter.

Posted by ayelet at May 18, 2004 09:11 AM