midterm-grief

“Happy birthday, darling.”

Not sure where you should set up camp this midterm season? Have no fear; Spectrum has created the ultimate test to decide which on-campus study spot will help steer the way.

Sometimes, jostled by the 1 train, I miss driving. Colorado is a wide and open land; jagged, regal mountains spill into yellow plains under the expansive sky. Interstate 70 scrapes the side of Denver and curves westward to become a heavily trafficked, occasionally perilous mountain corridor. Its long tunnels, steep grades, and packs of long-haul trucks make me break out in hives, particularly in rain or snow.

Last semester, I had a midterm. Actually, I had several, but this one made me think. I was studying abroad in Paris at the time and when I was scheduled to have a dinner with my host family the night before this particular midterm, I planned on begging out of the dinner just to study. But when my host invited several friends to dinner for the sole purpose of meeting me, I knew my plan would be impossible.

Content Warning: This piece deals with issues of death and grief.

This past Wednesday, I was told that my friend Heather had passed away. My friend Julia, who flew home from a gap year in Brazil to see her, called to tell me the news mere minutes after sharing her last moments with Heather. Heather’s mother had called me the Sunday before to let me know that I should come down in the next few weeks to say goodbye. I immediately scheduled a flight for that Thursday.