The funny thing is, it takes a tragedy for people to see how much life is actually worth. When you grow up with little and struggle every day; you always see it, you always know.
I'm the youngest of two children in a single parent home. I grew up on welfare as my mother struggled to care for my sister, my nephew (who's mother was killed in a car accident), and myself. We had salvation army Christmases. Everything we bought was on sale and not brand names. I learned at an early age that money can buy you nice things, but it can't replace people or memories.
We didn't go on extravagant vacations. I spent my summers at my grandmothers in Levittown, PA (where I'm originally from) and playing in the sand on the beach in Wildwood Crest, NJ where my great aunt has a beach house. Whenever we traveled it was always by car, no planes. We drove to Texas, Georgia, and Florida as our biggest trips. I was young and enjoyed all of them. Now when I drive from Maine to Pennsylvania to see family it takes me about 10 hours. People here can't believe I make those trips, and they're even more shocked when I tell them I sleep in my car. (Hey, if I'm too tired to drive, I'd rather pull over and sleep for a few hours then get into an accident.) I've always been one who has enjoyed the little pleasures in life. Sure, I enjoy some costly items as well, but when it comes down to it the little things are always what mean the most.
In 1994 the small town I lived in for most of my life was hit by a flood. Half of the town was devastated but we came together and got through it. In 1996 the town faced another flood. This time the house that my family was renting was no longer inhabitable, or so we were told. For 9 months we lived in a single room above the small restaurant in town that my mother worked in. My mother, sister, and I shared a bed. There was one community bathroom that my family shared with the owners and whatever guests they had. My mother was able to cook meals during the day for us outside of business hours. When we didn't have meals my sister and I lived off of peanut butter and jelly "sandwiches" on saltine crackers. The set up wasn't the greatest, but it was the only thing we had. Luckily a family friend came to assist as well. We spent the next 9 months living the family friends unfinished basement. They had a pull out couch that my mother and sister slept on and I slept on the couch cushions on the floor. It wasn't easy. It wasn't comfortable, but it was a place of shelter. My mother worked three jobs and was finally able to rent a plot of land and buy a mobile home. The trailer was from 1962 and had two bedrooms, thought the 2nd bedroom could only fit a crib. The master bedroom ended up being for my sister and I. We had sold our furniture from before because we needed money so I slept on the floor or with my sister on a cheap futon. We tore down the wall between the laundry room and the 2nd bedroom so that my mother's bed would fit. We lived like this for quite some time. At least we had a bit more space. The back half of the house, which housed the only bathroom and the master bedroom ending up losing electricity and we had to run extension cords through the house - it was never a dull moment. Our luck didn't change when another bad thunderstorm rolled through town uprooting a tree that fell on the trailer. It was fixable, but until we could get it fixed every time it rained we had a waterfall in our living room. My mom worked her butt off for 3 years. In 1998 she purchased a modular home to place on the plot of land we had rented to own. Life started to go back to "normal". We had a new home - for the first time in 3 years we were actually not ashamed to call it a home either. In my teenage angst I may not have always appreciated everything, but I don't take any of it for granted.
It was 4 years until the next tragedy would strike. October of 2001 was the start of a slew of tragic accidents. From that time until September 2003 Canton Area Junior Senior High School lost 10 students to car accidents or suicide. In a population of maybe 600 students between grades 7th-12th - 10 is a large number. I knew all of them. I had better friendships with some, but I knew all of them. August 3, 2003 was the worst of them all. Just outside of town, about a mile, Jesse Michael Sammons and two others were killed when the SUV they were in went off the road and into the creek side. He was the older brother that I never had. Growing up is hard enough to add such tragedy to it. Although our friendship changed through the later years of his life, I still respected and looked up to him. I was leaving for college at the end of the month. I was doing something that we all had always talked about doing - going away. Typical life in a small town, filled with kids that want to get away and go to the big city. Well, seeing as though I was originally from a suburb of Philly I already experience that. I enjoyed being in a small town. I enjoyed the wilderness and adventure that came with it. I had no idea how the college process worked as no one in my family had gone. My sister tried a semester at a local college but she didn't even know what she was doing when she applied. I ended up applying to a college because they had a free application and because I was broke, I had no other options when it came to applying for college - I needed applications that didn't have a fee. I applied to two colleges, one in PA and one in NH. I got accepted to the college in NH and they sent me my financial aid award letter. Not knowing any better I just confirmed acceptance there and put the worries of apply to college behind me. Was I running away? In sort, I was. There were so many bad memories associated with home that I needed a new place to go. But nothing is perfect. My first semester wasn't perfect. My first roommate wasn't perfect. I struggled but I didn't give up because I was determined to see it through. Looking back and knowing what I do now, I would've done a lot of things differently - but we live and learn, right?
I think reflection is good. I think looking back on all the tragedies gives me the ability to keep going. I also believe that because of my past I've been able to connect with students. I've been able to understand their struggles and able to help them through. This past year and a half working at a community college has also allowed me to realize it. Times are different. Circumstances have changed. I think it's important that we all take a minute to reflect, truly reflect, and adjust to change if need be. Don't put it off until tomorrow. Don't not do something because you're too busy.
STOP. Life moves too quickly on it's own for us to not take control from time to time and evaluate. We lose focus and sometimes ourselves in the process. In light of the recent tragedy of Hurricane Sandy, I ask that you now make the time. Find something, anything, and be thankful for it.
I'm thankful for what I have - the complaining and bullshit is just my reminder that I have things to complain about. Forever a pessimistic realist.
