Season Finale of Weeds

I think I was so captivated by Weeds because it is a constant struggle between loss, and moving forward toward what’s best, regardless of the unconventionality of the outcome. Loss of a family member, home, lifestyle, comfortability, familiarity, morals. Never loss of friendship or love, loyalty or strength.

While the show itself becomes pretty outlandish, the underlying battles are very relevant in anyones life. I think it holds true for most people, one of the biggest fears is of sadness and loss. Often it even holds us back from fulfilling goals and making changes to get what we want.

This battle against fear and loss saturates my life right now. It takes strength to stand up and face it. While there’s been some people who have swiftly stepped out, there have been more who have taken a huge step up to be brave for me and be strong for me.

As my dad told me shortly after I returned home from surgery, “I just wish some people could be stronger for you.” I think the people who will drop out the next six months will boil down to just that: they aren’t strong enough to face their fear of some sort of loss with me over the next six months, or maybe they just don’t want to.

A loss of my lifestyle going out on the weekends. A loss of familiarity of my priorities, focus, battles, and leisure changes. A loss of my health and strength as a person. I think a lot of people my age live in a bubble that we are indestructible at this age, and don’t want evidence of anything else. That’s how I was.

I’m well aware of some of the people who have already taken a brave step against these fears. And that’s what I need right now, are people who’s bravery and strength I can tap into when I grow weary.

I know my mom has taken on the weight of so much of my family’s sadness and concern. In the beginning, i told people 60% of my energy is taking care of myself. The other 40% is taking care of other people I care about. I love that so many people care, it’s just consuming to talk with everyone, so please don’t interpret my lack of (timely) response for not caring or being appreciative. My mom has taken a huge chunk of that off my plate to reassure and console the people she can.

My friend Josh who called me three days after surgery and pitched a huge idea to me. While I hadn’t yet realized the gravity of my situation, he had pieced it together and already thought two steps ahead of me to help and support me. That call was probably one of the biggest events that forced me into accepting my situation. The work he’s still doing is incredible that a friend would be able to do so much.

My family who’s been at my beck and call and who’s sent support in so many ways emotionally and financially. I had one aunt who came in from out of state to spend a week with me, another wanting to come into Omaha from out of town to a chemo appointment to understand treatment so she can be my point of contact should something go wrong in Lincoln. My brothers family who is arranging their plans months away around my treatment schedule. Again, I feel like so many people are two steps ahead of me.

My friends, who have kept me so busy the last two weeks I think I’ve only eaten at home twice. The ones who catch me online during my sporadic schedule at night and want to check in to see how I am. They acknowledge the situation, support it and me, but keep me doing the same things I’ve been doing. My activities and capabilities might change, but I’m still me, and that won’t stop during these six months. Kudos to Jenn and Ann for hauling my suitcase across the country this weekend, and for making finding me a chair their #1 priority everywhere we went.

All these people realize the inevitable loss of some form in the immediate future, if not the loss that’s already here. All of them have embraced it, and volunteered to step up and lend me some of their strength.

It is hard for me to accept help. I like to think I’m a strong enough person and i can take care of myself, but thrive when I can be there for those close to me. I saw a quote the other day that really hit me – “Sometimes the helpers need to be helped. In turn, it makes them better helpers.”

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Author: Clarissa A.

The older I get, the less I know.

4 thoughts on “Season Finale of Weeds”

  1. I would never wish cancer on anyone, but they say there are silver linings. For me, it was finding out at an early age what most people don’t learn about life until they are 80 years old. Would I trade that for the carefree lifestyle I once had? I don’t know. I’ve realized it doesn’t matter b/c I can’t change it. You will be amazed at all you learn about yourself and about life. And you will build a different future. It won’t be the same, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t be wonderful.

  2. Funny you feel that you pull strength from me
    when I feel I pull strength from you!*******

    ps When old dreams are fading there are always new dreams to make!

    Love You Bunches…Mom

  3. I will carry your suitcase where ever it needs to go for the next 50 years as long as we can continue to do road trips and World’s largest/smallest attractions. Nashville is definitely on our “go back” list! Thanks for a memorable weekend!!!

  4. I wholeheartedly agree with the first comment by Katie – this is what my brother has said, that he is so much more appreciative of his loved ones, and life in general, after going through what he went through. I believe in your spirit and am so happy to read that you have so many people in your life that love you so much and have a fighting, positive spirit as well.

    You floored me last weekend with your positive attitude and your ability to enjoy the moment. I’m so glad you came with us, it was such a great time! Added bonus – you’re a dude magnet, so we were pretty popular 😉

    Watch the mail… 🙂

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