To a Daughter Leaving Home

To a Daughter Leaving Home, by Linda Pastan, really struck home for me when I found it in our Lit. book. This past year I graduated high school down the road at Sun Valley High School and the only thoughts I knew were occupying my parents' minds was that they were losing another daughter to college. My dad is quite the emotional type and expresses his feelings, thoughts, worries and concerns on a daily basis to my sisters and me. My older sister, Hillary, is off at graduate school in Michigan and my twin sister is at UNCW. I know my parents were worried about losing me to, but at least I stayed right down the road.

The poem talks about a father teaching his daughter to ride a bike for the first time by herself. The speaker, the father, states in the first sentence "When I taught you" which implies this poem was going to be looking back on a memory. This father put a lot of thought and concern into teaching his daughter how to ride a bike, which kind of symbolized him teaching her to be independent, to grow, and learn on her own. I remember when I first tried riding a bike on my own as my father pushed me down the slight hill we lived on. You could tell he was nervous, like the father in the poem, and that he was worried and waiting for me to crash, but after a few times, I rode on my own with dignity and pride, alone, without my father.

The father in the poem describes the sight of his daughter getting smaller and smaller as she rode farther away. In this way, the poem shows how the daughter is getting further and further out of reach, exploring the road on her own as her father tried desperately to catch up. The words "more breakable with distance" shows that the father views his daughter as very vulnerable on her own. He, like any father, is probably used to always being there every step of the way in his daughter's life, and this bike riding lesson is what tears that tie between a father and daughter.

The girl is the poem is noted as screaming and laughing with excitement as she ventures on her own as her hair flaps in the wind "like a handkerchief waving goodbye." This last line of the poem jumps out at me. The father sees this as a goodbye, even though his daughter, still young, is only learning to ride her bike and will return home. This instance is like a foreshadowing for the father as to what years from then will be like when his daughter starts her own life and leaves home.

I think that the daughter leaving home later in her life is what made her father look back in time and remember when she first learned to ride her bike on her own and how it reminded him of her goodbye.

The Life of Jaws

I knew I wanted to blog about this when it happened, though it has taken me a few days to get to it. Last week, my very large goldfish that has been with my family for over a year clearly demonstrated the "fish out of water" effect. Up til that one morning, we had four fish, Jaws, a large goldfish, Wilson, a white and red cousin to the goldfish, and two others that I never cared to learn their names because they are Heather's fish. Anyways, we all knew the fish have grown rapidly over this past year and were outgrowing their tank, especially Jaws. We always joked about them jumping out of the tank because we've seen them jump to the top of the water, but swim quickly right back down.

Well, I was getting ready for school one early morning when I heard my mom return home from her night audit at a local hotel, when I heard my mom say: "OH, NOO!" Obviously, I was startled and asked what happened and what was wrong. She said Jaws was laying on the floor about four feet from the tank by the kitchen door. In the middle of the night, Jaws must have jumped a little to far up out of the water, to his death, on the kitchen hardwood floors and flip-flopped for about four more feet. Imagine how scared he was when he landed. I cannot even stand the thought of drowning and that is exactly what Jaws experienced, but in air. If only someone was downstairs when it happened! Then, perhaps someone, even myself, would have been there to hear his fall and quickly pick him back up and put him back into the tank.

I can't old anyone responsible, but I was shocked and a little sad. I knew he was too big for the tank, but I didn't think he was big enough to accomplish such a leap.
I definitely am not going to purchase another fish though in his place. Jaws will be missed, but I still have Wilson!

In Loving Memory

Since I mentioned the death of my best friend's mom, Julie, four years ago I just have to talk about it now. Letting my feelings out always helps and yes, four years ago still seems like yesterday and it still hurts. I lived across the street from Jaclyn for eleven years in Milford, Massachusetts until I moved here in the summer of 2004. Jaclyn was mine and my sister's age so we went to school together and right off the bat became really good friends. Jaclyn's mom was a stay at home mom. I believe she used to teach (like my own mom) but decided to take care of the kids while Jaclyn's dad did his work in construction. My mom worked nights at the local Marriot Hotel so we often stayed with Jaclyn during the day while my mom slept. Julie fed us breakfast, even if Jaclyn wasn't getting up for school that day, and brought Heather and I to school quite often.

When Jaclyn's mom first got sick we were only in the second grade. She was diagnosed with bone cancer after experiencing severe pain in her hips. After a year in treatment, Julie beat cancer. She went into remission, which we all know leaves loopholes for the disease to come back. It wasn't until we were in the eighth grade that Jaclyn's mom got cancer again and this time it was a lot worse. I had spread to numerous locations in her body which led her to many different treatments of chemotherapy and radiation therapy. While her mom was gone at doctor and hospital visits, sometimes overnight, Jaclyn stayed with us. In this way, my mom was a second mom to her, like her mom was to us.

The cancer spread fast and by the end of the school year, Julie lost a significant amount of weight, her hair, and had at home care in her own living room in a hospital bed. She was given a reclining chair for patients like her that couldn't get up on their own. The chair was rather cool. It mechanically lifted the person up, making the chair push forward and upward. Regardless of the neat gadget, seeing my second mom like that killed me. When we found out we were moving because of my dad's job it couldn't have been more of bad timing. Julie was dying and we were leaving.

We kept in touch with Jaclyn daily throughout the summer of 2004 and told her to call when you know what happened. I was at the mall with my friend Sammy that cold day in December when Jaclyn called my cell phone. I knew it wasn't good. Julie had passed early that afternoon after strangely exhibiting signs of getting better. I burst out and tears and rushed home. My days were somber and to make matters worse my mom wouldn't let us fly up north to go to Julie's funeral. *I'm crying right now as I read this, even typing it is hard* At the time I had a livejournal online in which ironically, like we did in class today, wrote a poem explaining my feelings about Julie and the impact she had on my life.

I wrote about our blueberry toaster strudel breakfasts, trips to Cape Cod, and particular memories we had together, Jaclyn, Heather, her mom, and I. My mom sent a copy of my poem to Jaclyn's father who framed it and put it on top of Julie's casket the day of her funeral. Jaclyn told me everyone was shocked such a good poem came from a young girl like me, yet cried tears of happiness seeing how much impact Julie had on others' lives.

In memory of Julianne Duridas, Heather and I got tattoos of the cancer ribbon attached to angel wings. Mine is on my upper back and I look at it each day thinking about Julie. I know she's seen it and was probably there when I got it. My tattoo will stick with me forever. In this sense, Julie's memory and spirit will stick with me for as long as I live. I love Juile for the mother she was and how she impacted the lives of others around her. She was one courageous woman with optimistic views. She put up the biggest fight she had in her, but we all know even angels fall sometimes. Lesson learned: live each day to its best. Never underestimate the willpower and fight you have inside yourself. Surround yourself with friends and family that make you smile. Make a difference in others' lives. Be an outstanding role model, and in terms of cancer, always hope there will be a cure one day.

7 Minute Poem

In class today we were asked to write a poem about something that has happened to us that has taught us something. I automatically began thinking about the death of my best friend's mom who was like a second mom to me. She lost her fight to cancer on December 16, 2004 the day after Christmas. When Ms. Frailly said it had to be something recent, I knew since its going on Julie's fifth anniversary of her death this coming December that I would have to find something extremely more recent that has happened to me and taught me a lesson.

My second thought traced straight to my twin sister, Heather. Heather and I were born January 27, 1990 in Parsippany, New Jersey. Since that day we have been attached at the hip. Because we were the same age, we always shared the same friends, classes, and extracurricular activities such as cheerleading and tennis. It wasn't until this past school year that we were forced to be separated for a long duration of time than we were ever accustomed to before. Heather home to attend the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. I once thought I would join her there because the shock of her being gone was something I learned I could not bear. I now know she is planning to transfer this next school year somewhere closer to home.

The saying that "you never know what you got 'til it's gone" is so true and really plays a mental picture in my mind now. Throughout high school Heather and I fought constantly, mostly over stupid things that now seemed pointless. My senior year, I got in my first physical altercation ever, and this was with Heather. I started at our house one school morning and continued in the school parking lot. Somehow, it only landed me a spot in the principal's office and my mom had to come to talk to me. The administration said I could calm down or they wanted me to go home. Nevertheless, it's ironic how much we fought and took eachother's company for granted because now that were not together, we both feel like the other half of us it missing.

This past month we had our first birthday apart. She came home that weekend which was a couple days before our actual birthday to try to make things better, but it didn't. I guess the lesson I learned most was about myself and the reflection Heather holds to the inner me. We may have several differences, but on the inside, we are virtually the same. Heather is my other half and my absolute best friend. That is why I have learn a lesson or two about taking someone for granted.

Here is my poem:

There's nothing like
a twin bond
As different, yet
alike as we may be
Two eggs and two
very different sperm
combined to create a sisterhood
that stands out for all to see

Heather is my angel
My best friend
and the closest person to me
I'd never live another day
if I took for granted what others need

They need the comfort, joy
and understanding of
another the same age
To experience life with you
at every difficult stage

She truly makes a difference
in my life because
she sees what I see
I never thought I'd miss her so much
since she left for school out by the beach
And if there's one
lesson I ever learned
It was to hang on to those who teach

You see, this teacher is my sister
We've learned together
right and wrong
Even though we look
extremely different
We'eve been the same person inside all along