May 21, 2016, 2:33 a.m.
So I left the note on the car that I'd hit yesterday. And I waited and waited for someone to call, but no one did. I had thoughts throughout the workday that it was my boss's car. Or maybe the car of my boss's boss. Or a car of someone I really didn't like at Stanford. I checked my email on my Ipad this morning and didn't look at my phone until I had to head to Stanford. There was a message, and I had to listen to it twice to believe it. I had hit the Mercedes SUV belonging to the Chair of my Department!
If this had happened four or six years ago, I would have been devastated. Horrified beyond belief. Convinced that my career was in jeopardy, and disappointed in my misstep. When the Chair called, I did have to listen to the message two times before I realized that indeed, it was she. There was a course a fleeting moment of, "are you KIDDING me?" But I called right back, without second guessing it. She had said in her voicemail that this was "probably my worst nightmare." Four or six years ago, it would have been. Now? Well, I just feel stupid and tired and silly. I feel like I hit that car because I literally have no more space in my brain sometimes to process information like, "how much space is between those two cars?" Instead, I just move and act, hoping that the universe will catch me. And most of the time it does. The universe must have been taking a rest itself when I pulled into that spot yesterday.
Our friends came into town tonight from Colorado. Vyga and her daughter Simona. Zander came with me to pick them up at the airport, and I haven't seen him this excited in a very long time. Zander loves other people, and he was simply delighted when we found them at the Southwest terminal. It's a gift for us that they are visiting, whether they realize it or not. A change from leukemia, a visit with normal life. A special treat. We are excited for our time together. Worried maybe that they won't understand where we've been since last August...or understand our pain, I suppose. And maybe they won't, and maybe that's okay. We love them, and they love us. And maybe that's enough?
At least 300-400 faculty and students regularly frequent Stanford's Psychiatry Building. The Chair...really?
Onward, Aila. Sometimes we simply choose to move on.
Comments
Rosie 8 years, 6 months ago
V - you and Aila were in my dream last night. I was back at Quarry Road. It was so nice to spend time with you (unconsciously). Sending love.
Link | ReplyNew Comment