Change is Not Like a Sunrise

Good morning, friends and readers.  I recognize that it has been quite some time since I wrote anything substantial on here, but for the most part it's because I felt like I didn't have much of anything poignant enough to share with the world.  Some whining, some bickering, some complaining... some good news.

If you have not already heard, my best friend in the world (my "brother from another mother") spent the past five months battling cancer.  As of last week, my dear friends, I am happy to share that the battle, for now, is over.  Six rounds of chemotherapy and fifteen radiation treatments, combined with loads of medication and hundreds of blood thinner injections, have rendered Mr. Robert Joseph Belcher CANCER-FREE!!  Just after his thirtieth birthday, we celebrated the last of his radiation treatments with a nice dinner out, just us and his parents.  He's still going to be recovering and regaining his strength for some time, so the big party will have to wait a few weeks until he's feeling up to it, but the occasion could not go unmarked.

As for my own life, I guess you could say things have started to "go back to normal", as if there is any such thing as "normal".  It's kind of a strange concept if you think about it, since every person, every moment, every routine is constantly changing in magnificent and subtle and lightning-fast and creepingly slow ways, some that we notice right away and some that we never realize until they are so far changed as to be unrecognizable for what they once were...

Change is NOT like a sunrise.  At least not often.  Change is as the seasons, always a little different from the year before, always subtly sliding from one into the next in constant swirling motion, as the leaves drift in many-hued swirls through the crisp breezy air, the clouds racing by overhead in not exactly the same way as they ever have before.  Each year seems like a huge year full of changes, but if EVERY year is different, then aren't they all, really, the same?  No one day, one minute, one second, can ever be EXACTLY the same as the one before it, or the one after it.  The whole world is constantly changing.

So what, then, is "normal"?  We could say normal is the least amount of noticeable change, that when things seem the most similar to how they have been in the recent past, that things are now "normal."  We could, on the other hand, say that Change IS Normal - that the state of being constantly learning, growing, altering and improving ourselves is what is "normal" - in that case, stagnation and inertia become strange and foreign concepts.

So many things have changed in the past year.  As we shift rapidly through Fall, at the time of year when my family recognizes and follows the teachings of the Jewish New Year (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which both occurred about a month ago), I am always given to reflect on the changes in myself and my life since this time last year.  What did I do that was new and different?  What big decisions did I make?  What do I regret?  What do I want to do even differently in the next year?

This year, I worked at a new job that I really enjoy, and stretched myself professionally in ways that helped me to grow in confidence and intellectualism.  I helped students to discover what the future might hold for them after college, and found the joy of knowing I have made a difference to a young adult not that much younger than myself.  I was able to proudly attach my name to projects, seminars, training events and publicity materials that I created and distributed, and add those materials and accomplishments to my portfolio and resume.  I started writing more articles and blog posts, and published a new article in an online news source for the first time in years.  I wrote for the school newspaper and saved copies of every article.

I kept a potted plant alive for an entire year.  This, sadly, is an accomplishment for me, as all my other plants and growing projects have died from neglect.  This poor little plant is scraggly and a bit pathetic, but it is still growing and living in my office, having survived the trip from Northern Virginia when my parents first came to visit and help me move after starting the new job over a year ago.

I have been in a wonderful relationship that is just about to celebrate it's official one-year anniversary next weekend.  My boyfriend has been sweet, romantic, caring, surprising, goofy, supportive, and fun through all of the trials and tribulations of the past year.  He saw me through some hard times that I don't know how I would have weathered without him.  We traveled together to Florida for his family's summer vacation and a family wedding, and he attended my brother's wedding as my date.  We've spent time getting to know each other's families, each other's passions, each other's friends and hobbies and a few annoying habits.  I've learned so much in the past year about how to be in a relationship, how to act and what to expect and how to balance my free time between self and friends, family and relationships.  I have learned to say "I love you."

I have learned to cope with more changes than I thought I could experience at one time, as in the midst of a change I was wrapped up in and freaking out about, something bigger and more unexpected came out of nowhere.  I finally made the decision to try living on my own for the first time ever, but was not quite ready to have to make that leap yet.  We had a whole plan where we would move to the new town, to the apartment I had picked out and which I believed I could eventually afford on my own, and Joey would work and save up for a few months until I was more settled and ready and Joey had some money saved up to move out on his own, potentially to somewhere out of state to start a new life for himself.

Well, that all changed when the cancerous tumor was discovered in his chest, just weeks from potentially becoming fatal.  As he lay in a hospital bed contemplating his own mortality, I cried and stressed out over having to move into the new apartment by myself - I blanched at the idea of having to do everything on my own, right away, without the comfort of the pre-planned months of transition.  I became sad and depressed at the idea of losing my best friend, and even after his prognosis turned very positive I did not know how to cope with the multitude of changes his new situation introduced.

I changed, albeit more slowly than I would have liked.  I worked my butt off exercising four days a week to train for a 5K race to benefit the Cancer Center Bridge Fund that was paying for Joey's treatments.  I spent every evening either with my boyfriend or visiting Joey, through the hospital, through the chemotherapy treatments, through days when he felt awful and did not want visitors.  We watched movies, we played video games, we talked online.  I made homemade chicken matzah ball soup in large quantities.  I showed up for many a family dinner unannounced and found a second family welcoming me with open arms through it all.

Eventually, as the chemo treatments progressed and then switched to radiation treatments, my schedule started getting less insanely crowded.  I spent a few nights alone in my new apartment, without crying at being lonely or needing company.  I played some online video games, watched some girly movies, cooked dinner for myself.  And I also let the house become embarrassingly dirty, let dishes pile up in the kitchen, stayed out far too late on work nights more than I'd care to admit.  I stopped going to the gym, gained a bit of weight, became aware that my cholesterol is pretty unhealthily high.

But at some point recently, I realized that I am not afraid of the way things are changing.  I have a good job, though I wish it paid a bit more.  I have a second job which is going to help me make up the difference for a few months, though I have to give up my Sunday evenings.  I have an amazing and inspiring best friend, who will always be a part of my life even if we are never going to be roommates again.  I have a boyfriend who loves me enough to think it's adorable when I fall asleep on the couch at 10pm with my Xbox live headset still on and the title screen music from 'Borderlands 2' blasting out of the tv.  I have a hectic life which is never boring, and in which I get to see my family, best friend and boyfriend as much as possible.

In the past year, I also got a new sister (-in-law), a new baby cousin, and new friends.  I stopped believing I was a complete failure for not being able to pay off my entire credit card balance right this minute.  I started taking on new projects at work, and acknowledging that sometimes it's okay not to make a deadline if you apologize and work to complete the project as soon as you can.  I stepped up and filled in for my boss for a week when she had an unexpected family emergency, and I didn't fall apart.

Change is not like a sunrise.  The sun rises every day, but never once does it look exactly the same.  But I say that change is not like a sunrise because when the sun comes up, it changes the whole world from dark to light, from stars to sunshine, from cool to warm, from black to a multitude of colors.  Change is sometimes colorful and majestic, and sometimes it is subtle and unnoticed.  Change is constant.  Change is life.

If you've read this far, I thank you.  This was not a pre-planned post, or something I wrote in multiple drafts.  This is simply the stream of my consciousness on a Friday morning spent in contemplation, and now I go back to a day filled with changes of various magnitudes...  Until next time, friends, I bid you adieu.