Well, Happy Birthday to You.
So, your day is almost here. I've claimed it as my own personal holiday; I hope you don't mind. Since your birthday falls mid-week this year, and I have already taken a few weeks off, I am spending the day at home tomorrow. Not quite sure what I'm going to do yet... possibly work on my novels. Yeah, me, novels. Have a laugh at that one if you like. The general idea is that I put aside all the "should do's", at least.
I am trying to figure out what to say this year. Telling you about my year seems a bit silly; you already know. But thinking about what my year has been like and what I'm doing now, it occurs to me how much of it stems from our friendship. So many things would be different if we'd never met. I can't even imagine where I would be or what I would be like. You and the girls partially carried me through college; without you, I might not have ever made it through all my insane classes. I definitely never would have gotten back into music. Choir, a cappella, the music double major, the months at University of Toronto--all gone. I probably wouldn't be taking violin lessons again now. I wouldn't be sitting here listening to JPop because you were the one who got me so deeply hooked on all things Japanese. I might not even be calling this house my home if I hadn't had you in my life. Who knows where I would have ended up. Maybe nowhere. It's just staggering how many things on a daily basis I can attribute, in part at least, to your influence. I think the term "life-changing" can be applied to our friendship and not be an exaggeration.
And then my life changed again. It's gotten easier. I don't feel like I have a gaping hole in my chest every time something reminds me of you. I feel as though I've spent most of the last five years waking up, maybe even longer, and even more since we lost you. I continue to explore every day, and I hope I'm not imagining it when I feel that you're somewhere, rooting me on, pushing me to be a better person. Because I still feel the way I did when it first hit me that you were gone--that I have to fight to make up some of what the world lost when you left it.
Anything I may accomplish in this life and those that follow, I think I will owe, in part, to you. Above all, your life was about sowing the seeds of joy, creativity, and hope in others. I'm certainly not the only one. We are many, your intellectual progeny. All the accomplishments we make, all the trials we overcome... those are your triumphs too.
To those fellow survivors: keep fighting, every day. Be better people. And know that Anjali is there, in every one of you, in every small victory.
So, one more birthday has arrived, unclaimed but by no means uncelebrated. Happy 27th, Jules. Every day, I hear ganbatte on the wind, and that's you. Thanks.
Until Then, Muddling Through, Etc.,
--Indy
As time passes, please continue to support the Anjali Pai Memorial Fund if you are able. Every little bit helps. <3
I am trying to figure out what to say this year. Telling you about my year seems a bit silly; you already know. But thinking about what my year has been like and what I'm doing now, it occurs to me how much of it stems from our friendship. So many things would be different if we'd never met. I can't even imagine where I would be or what I would be like. You and the girls partially carried me through college; without you, I might not have ever made it through all my insane classes. I definitely never would have gotten back into music. Choir, a cappella, the music double major, the months at University of Toronto--all gone. I probably wouldn't be taking violin lessons again now. I wouldn't be sitting here listening to JPop because you were the one who got me so deeply hooked on all things Japanese. I might not even be calling this house my home if I hadn't had you in my life. Who knows where I would have ended up. Maybe nowhere. It's just staggering how many things on a daily basis I can attribute, in part at least, to your influence. I think the term "life-changing" can be applied to our friendship and not be an exaggeration.
And then my life changed again. It's gotten easier. I don't feel like I have a gaping hole in my chest every time something reminds me of you. I feel as though I've spent most of the last five years waking up, maybe even longer, and even more since we lost you. I continue to explore every day, and I hope I'm not imagining it when I feel that you're somewhere, rooting me on, pushing me to be a better person. Because I still feel the way I did when it first hit me that you were gone--that I have to fight to make up some of what the world lost when you left it.
Anything I may accomplish in this life and those that follow, I think I will owe, in part, to you. Above all, your life was about sowing the seeds of joy, creativity, and hope in others. I'm certainly not the only one. We are many, your intellectual progeny. All the accomplishments we make, all the trials we overcome... those are your triumphs too.
To those fellow survivors: keep fighting, every day. Be better people. And know that Anjali is there, in every one of you, in every small victory.
So, one more birthday has arrived, unclaimed but by no means uncelebrated. Happy 27th, Jules. Every day, I hear ganbatte on the wind, and that's you. Thanks.
Until Then, Muddling Through, Etc.,
--Indy
As time passes, please continue to support the Anjali Pai Memorial Fund if you are able. Every little bit helps. <3