Tuesday, January 17, 2012

I wouldn't be so sure about longitude and latitude...

I re-started watching West Wing a little while back, and my favorite episode, titled 'Someone is Going to Emergency, Someone is Going to Jail,' involves cartographers who request a new map become widespread since it showed the true size and location of each continent, which are markedly different from the maps we all used in school. I like this part because I like maps, but the episode later brings around the quotation I used as a title, showing that you cannot necessarily count on the things you know you can count on.

One of the things we should know, count on, and not have to question is the axiom that children bury their parents. It's not the other way around- it never should be. Yet, twice in the last few months- once for a friend's younger brother, and this week, for a friend of mine- longitude and latitude are not so sure. While my friend was a truly incredible person, she will be written about by those who knew her better than I. I will only mention that her love of baseball was one of the few I have found that equaled or exceeded my own, and I will dearly miss that along with the rest of her kindnesses.

Honestly, I don't really know what to think. Like others, I am filled with sadness that my friend was taken away from those who loved her far too early. I heard the news via a phone call from someone whom I thought had mistakenly dialed my number- I didn't answer just in case, but called back immediately once I heard the tone of the voicemail, without even hearing the words. It's amazing how some things simply trump everything else, how after months of all but ignoring each others existence, someone can feel the pain and suffering in another's voice, and all is forgotten, with the greater purpose of making sure that someone is OK because you know the pain they are in.

I say I don't know what to think, which is true, but I also cannot help but feel the sinking pit in my stomach when thinking about the whole situation. For the seventeen of you who know me, you may have figured out by now that I don't often talk outwardly about things going on in my life, and while it is something I am trying to be better about, the death of a friend is one of those things that will probably just be shut in for a while. But I know the feeling that everyone else is also feeling, and I want nothing more than to help ease that sickness in other's souls. My friend meant a lot to a lot of people, and a lot of my friends. And I am powerless to do anything about it, and that takes away from what I thought I knew.

I am not so sure about latitude and longitude. I guess part of growing up is learning that you can't always believe a map, and sometimes have to find the path without guidance.

Thanks for reading,
Dis