It has been exactly 365 days since I've written here. When I last visited this blog, I was on the verge of losing one of my best friends from college. Mark passed away not too long after that post was published, and one year later, there's one thing I've learned from this journey.
Grief is a process. You would think that after having the five stages ingrained in my memory during college and grad school that I would be well aware of this, but it's different when you're actually facing it rather than reading about it in a textbook. Sometimes it will hit me at the oddest times.
When I'm sitting eating lunch and a memory will pop into my head that causes me to tear up.
When I'm laying in bed late at night fighting a case of insomnia and I find myself wishing that I could just tell him one more time how much he meant to me.
When a thought of him pops into my head and I can still hear his voice, plain as day like he's still sitting right next to me.
When a thought of him pops into my head and I can still hear his voice, plain as day like he's still sitting right next to me.
It's a weird crossroads to be at. On one hand I question whether I have the right to feel these emotions so strongly when I hadn't seen him in four years. On the other, I realize that he, in his own way, played a huge part in helping me become the person I am today simply by being my friend. Plain and simple, I just miss him.
I remember when everything first happened, my friend Mel gave me some advice that has stuck with me to this day. She said "Be kind to yourself and don't let anyone tell you how you're supposed to feel." I should note that she has been absolutely amazing, and wise beyond her years, in supporting me through this. I am so grateful for her.
A few months after Mark died, the woman who had been like a second mother to me during my teenage years, and for a good chunk of my adult life, also passed away. It was a true lesson in the fragility of life.
But the point of this post is not to be depressing or melancholy. Even though 2013 was a rough year it also taught me to take a hard look at my priorities.
Anyone reading this blog probably knows that one of my big dreams was always to move to Los Angeles. I talked non-stop throughout grad school about how I was going to move to L.A. and work at LA Children's Hospital. To all my Georgia friends, I apologize for how obnoxious I must have sounded.
It's taken me a long time but I've slowly realized that Los Angeles is not my dream anymore. A few months ago, I was enjoying a long overdue catch-up call with my college roommate Katie and she asked me if I was still thinking of moving to L.A. It was the first time I could honestly say no and mean it.
I will always love the city and I enjoy venturing there on my yearly vacations, but my heart no longer yearns to call it home with such intensity. It may just be a sign of me maturing or that my practicality has finally won out over the desire to be spontaneous, but it was a bit of a refreshing realization.
Another thing that losing Mark taught me was to stop delaying doing what I love. What's that saying: Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today? As most of you know I've been working in Public Relations pretty much since I finished grad school. But, if I was being honest with myself, I knew that a large part of my heart would always be drawn back to Social Work. After all, I'd devoted six years of my life, countless sleepless nights, and many rounds of tears to get my degrees in the field so I could do my part to help those facing hardship in the world. So, with a bit of a heavenly nudge from Mark and an even bigger push from Mel, I finally worked up the courage to send an email to the head of a foundation I'd long admired for their work in saving lives by encouraging people to "Recycle Their Bodies": adding their name to the bone marrow registry, becoming an organ donor, donating their baby's cord blood at birth, etc. The organization was founded in honor of a sweet boy named Evan Cousineau who fought a brave battle against a rare disease called Adrenoleukodystrophy. I followed Evan's journey by way of a great site called Caringbridge from almost the beginning until the day he journeyed to Heaven right before his 10th birthday in 2007. His mom Gina founded the Be A Hero Become A Donor Foundation in his honor and she has given me the great privilege to be the Outreach Coordinator since earlier this year.
Every time I learn the story of a new Leukodystrophy family, I know I was meant to be doing this.
Every time I get an email from a parent thanking me for highlighting their child's story, I know I made the right decision to take a leap of faith and send that email to Gina all those months ago asking if there was any way I could help.
This past Thursday, California's Governor signed Assembly Bill 1559 into law, adding Adrenoleukodystrophy to the Newborn screening panel of diseases that babies are tested for at birth. Meaning that the disease that claims so many young, beautiful boys like Evan can now be diagnosed earlier than ever before.
At that moment, as I wiped tears from my eyes, I wished I lived in California. Though I certainly can't take any credit for this monumental event, I know how hard Gina, the foundation, and her fellow ALD parents worked to get to this point. It's life-changing and my one wish is that more people understood that. But, that's part of our mission: to educate, to empower, and to motivate.
I recently traveled to California for the Foundation's annual board meeting, and it was truly a wonderful experience getting to work with Gina face to face on our all-important mission. We went to the beach one day and, as I sat in the ocean listening to the waves crash around me, I couldn't help but think about how my life has come almost full circle this past year. From the pain of losing a best friend to the fulfillment of being part of a cause I truly believe in, it's been quite the rollercoaster.
Thanks for watching over me on the ride Mark: holding my hand when I need it and kicking my ass when I need that too. I miss you and I love you.
Another thing that losing Mark taught me was to stop delaying doing what I love. What's that saying: Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today? As most of you know I've been working in Public Relations pretty much since I finished grad school. But, if I was being honest with myself, I knew that a large part of my heart would always be drawn back to Social Work. After all, I'd devoted six years of my life, countless sleepless nights, and many rounds of tears to get my degrees in the field so I could do my part to help those facing hardship in the world. So, with a bit of a heavenly nudge from Mark and an even bigger push from Mel, I finally worked up the courage to send an email to the head of a foundation I'd long admired for their work in saving lives by encouraging people to "Recycle Their Bodies": adding their name to the bone marrow registry, becoming an organ donor, donating their baby's cord blood at birth, etc. The organization was founded in honor of a sweet boy named Evan Cousineau who fought a brave battle against a rare disease called Adrenoleukodystrophy. I followed Evan's journey by way of a great site called Caringbridge from almost the beginning until the day he journeyed to Heaven right before his 10th birthday in 2007. His mom Gina founded the Be A Hero Become A Donor Foundation in his honor and she has given me the great privilege to be the Outreach Coordinator since earlier this year.
Every time I learn the story of a new Leukodystrophy family, I know I was meant to be doing this.
Every time I get an email from a parent thanking me for highlighting their child's story, I know I made the right decision to take a leap of faith and send that email to Gina all those months ago asking if there was any way I could help.
This past Thursday, California's Governor signed Assembly Bill 1559 into law, adding Adrenoleukodystrophy to the Newborn screening panel of diseases that babies are tested for at birth. Meaning that the disease that claims so many young, beautiful boys like Evan can now be diagnosed earlier than ever before.
At that moment, as I wiped tears from my eyes, I wished I lived in California. Though I certainly can't take any credit for this monumental event, I know how hard Gina, the foundation, and her fellow ALD parents worked to get to this point. It's life-changing and my one wish is that more people understood that. But, that's part of our mission: to educate, to empower, and to motivate.
I recently traveled to California for the Foundation's annual board meeting, and it was truly a wonderful experience getting to work with Gina face to face on our all-important mission. We went to the beach one day and, as I sat in the ocean listening to the waves crash around me, I couldn't help but think about how my life has come almost full circle this past year. From the pain of losing a best friend to the fulfillment of being part of a cause I truly believe in, it's been quite the rollercoaster.
Thanks for watching over me on the ride Mark: holding my hand when I need it and kicking my ass when I need that too. I miss you and I love you.
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