Monday, January 26

Certificate

Last quarter was the first time I had attended school in a very, very long time. I went briefly right before Jeremy was born, and one year after high school, but neither experience was a positive one, and I was happy to leave my education days behind me. I have never been a stellar student, so I was extremely proud of myself last quarter when grades came out and I had made the deans list. In fact, I'm damn proud of myself, and I'm not afraid to toot my own horn about it. I think it's remarkable that I managed not only decent grades-but excellent grades-on top of the load on my shoulders. I took widowed parent and grieving wife, and added excellent student. I'm no fool, and I know that's something to be proud of. It gave me steam to do as well this quarter, and I'm grateful for that. Once the initial elation passed in December, though, I haven't thought that much more about it. Imagine my surprise then, this morning, when Jeremy brought in the mail from the weekend. Amongst the stack of magazines, tax notices, and junk mail, there was an official looking envelope from the college. I opened it up, and inside was a very official-looking certificate from the Dean, congratulating me on my 'outstanding academic achievement'. I was shocked at the wave of grief that accompanied this discovery.

The thing is, being proud of myself and my studies is completely wrapped up in my grief for Ammon. The last time anybody in this house was excited about grades, it was him. Ammon was an excellent student once he finally buckled down and studied, and every time I would gush over his achievements, he would tell me that he was only doing it for me and the kids, so we could have a better life. Today, I understand that better than I ever have before. I wish more than anything that today I could see the wide smile of pride etched into his face and the sparkle of his eyes as he looked at me-his smart wife-in adoration. Going forward in this new life, and excelling in my studies- seems in some ways to be a betrayal of him. I know that's not logical, but try to get my grief-addled brain to commit to logic these days, and you've solved many a crisis. I don't want to leave my old life behind. I don't want to excel at being a widow. I want to excel at being a wife, and this certificate today seemed a cruel irony. This should be a thrilling moment-and it is. It's just so damn wrapped up in everything that is WRONG with my life to look at it only as something RIGHT.

Now, there are tear stains on my certificate. It seems fitting somehow.

1 comment:

Susan said...

My heart hurts for you when I read your blogs...I wish I knew you!! I loved your last blog about the "Firm Fundation". So true and such beautiful lyrics. I haven't lost my husband like you have and thus, its hard to respond. I certainly don't want to respond in a way that only frustrates you more. I know how people's words don't come out the right way sometimes. I think you need to try to look at this certificate differently...you already realize how proud your husband would have been for your achievement...let that proudness drive you to continue to do better, if not for you (even though I think it is great that you are proud of yourself) for his memory. What a great thing to share with your children as well. Keep striving...your doing great and even though you talk about not wanting to be better after, you have to, for yours and his children. That is what he would have wanted, isn't it? I do enjoy your blogs. I'm not to far from Cincinnatti - up here north of Detroit. Take care.