Time for Dinner

I left what some think is the perfect scenario – a promotion, good benefits, a growing 401K, yearly stock options. I had the ability to invest in property if I wanted, take vacations, buy the people I love nice gifts, use extra of everything just because I could always buy more, maybe even get a new car soon…

But, I lost the 401K and the options anyway so where would have hanging in there gotten me, and all the other people, that dedicate more time to their jobs than to their children? I’m dedicating time to me now, just figuring it out one day at a time.

So today I was asked “when did you know you wanted something different?” Here’s where the story began:

I did everything “right”. I went to college, I got good grades and good jobs, I saved the money I made. I worked my tail off to get noticed as a rising star, I was listed in succession plans. I was the Horseshack in the corner raising my hand, even begged at times, for every high visibility project I could find. I found myself a mentor to help me climb the ladder and I created what I think is a good reputation for myself in the workplace.

I mentored others in order to take my place so I could move on. I learned accountability, flexibility and resilience. I worked extra hours, going in early and working late. I worked from home and on holidays and weekends. I said no to fun and personal plans in order to go the extra mile and cross one more thing off the to-do list.

This last point became the wake up call that began my inner transformation:
Dena called me at work one day and said “I have something to tell you”, then there was silence while she searched for the right words. There really wasn’t any good way to tell me so she just said it like it was, “Mohamed’s dead.” In stunned silence I thought to myself, “oh my God, my friend, a friend that loved me unconditionally, no matter what, the friend who always wanted more and was probably a soul mate of sorts even though I had chosen his twin.” And then in my head I asked myself, “is he the dead guy I saw on the news this morning when I awoke from a sound sleep in the middle of the night?” And after that, “what is wrong with me? Five times in the last few months, FIVE TIMES, I declined dinner with Hamed because I had to work late, I had a big project that was due, I was too tired. Now, he, one of my biggest fans, is gone. Not just away, gone to the point of never coming back. Gone to a place that I know nothing about. What did I miss?”

I shook and sat in silence listening to Dena’s soothing voice for the night. The next day she drove me to Rhode Island to the wake and funeral which would be part US American and part Muslim tradition. There the door opened and in came my adored friend, in a box. Not the type of casket I’m used to, it was just more than a box really. Inside he was in white sheets, washed, probably in pieces and ready to rest. Dena with tubes in her own legs caught me before mine gave out and I buried my head in her chest. I always fit perfectly right there in the extra 5 inches she had on me.

I sat and watched his family riddled with grief. I watched his fiancé and grew angry knowing she never really knew the real Mohamed. I looked at his brother, a former boyfriend. A man that I didn’t know was capable of such emotion, or, in this case, almost non-emotion. A time like this is so debilitating that I’m not sure anyone knew what or how to feel. But, I watched him crumble to his knees, his arms dangling from the necks of friends. Dena was on my left holding me up while she had tubes hanging from her leg, Mayar, her former boyfriend and my former person to butt heads with, was on my right. Together they held me up and, all very different, we felt the same feelings of helplessness and loss. Loss for the dead and loss for the living who would no longer be the same because a piece would be gone forever.

In the center of this circle of sadness lie Hamed, in the frigid ground, separated from us by a sheet and plywood. One friend lay dead before me, another was dying on my left arm, another on my right will forever live in guilt and bereavement for the one formerly mentioned on my left and in front of me a brother with a piece of his heart also dead. I knew then I needed to go home to see my family more, work less, spend the savings account, see the world, learn to forgive, wear my expensive perfume, be open to possibilities and the unknown, learn to balance selfish and giving, do the things I want to do, begin the process of attempting to open my heart for the possibility of love again, learn to accept and live with change and that which I cannot control and as much as possible, always accept a dinner invitation.

The book ‘A New Earth’ asks the question, “Has who you have become been diminished by the loss?” My answer is an emphatic “NO”. I am who I am, and I like who I am, because of my life experiences. I am a better and enriched person for the friendship and lessons I have received from Dena and Mohamed. Love to my far-away friends…elipses…because love goes on…