Look Up

I've been working at a nursing home as a server in the dining room, and I really like it. I mean, not the work itself; that part is brainless, mundane, and somewhat clammy, but the old people. There are usually a few frustrating grouchy people, but for the most part, they are amazing, and sometimes my heart swells with love just taking their order for special #1 on the menu, liver and onions.

Honestly, going into the job, I thought that if I derived anything real from it, it would be some sort of acceptance of deterioration and death. And maybe I just haven't been sufficiently immersed yet to gain that perspective, but more than anything, I've been amazed at most of the peoples' positive outlooks towards life. Even people who are in wheelchairs, going blind or deaf, frail and wrinkled, will look at me and smile and comment that it's such a beautiful day.

These people are able to appreciate the simplest, most natural gifts of the world while me and my friends spend time lamenting the impending end of summer, a less exciting night around the bonfire, responsibility of any sort. And I'll bet the old people did the same thing when they were our age, and for years afterward, but maybe it takes us years and years of loss and understanding to gain the most important thing, a sense of gratitude for life.

In other thoughts ... the end of summer is coming, much sooner than I feel comfortable with. And that's the way it's always been, I guess. The first entry of this particular journal consists of me complaining about the upcoming registration, and worrying about having people at Jesuit, and being sad about my friends leaving -- and yes, I still have apprehensions about these things, but in different ways -- considering everything that happened this year, with finding my own passions in English and Journalism, and becoming close to some of my now-best friends, and cancer all over again, I almost want to laugh. I have to keep the mindset that maybe next year, getting ready to head off to college, what I'm worried about now may seem trivial then, too. Or maybe things really are different.

Relatedly, I have my summer song.

"I'm still singing
twisting new melodies, breaking arrangements
Thinking about my heart
I guess you've heard, that sometimes it's heavy
But I just keep moving
When I hit a wall, I look up at the sky
Thinking about my maker
You know, in spite all this, I know she won't give up on me
And it's okay for you to care...
I only wanted to begin."

posted by Allison Francis @ 10:10 AM