I first met Sandra five years ago in a restaurant I work at. She was 34 years old then, with two children, and was dedicating herself to becoming a nurse at the local hospital. She was one of those women in my life that I looked up to. We'd discuss politics, celebrities, our own trivial lives and the imaginary lives of the customers we encountered.
Sandra was a second mother to me. She was always willing to listen to what I had to say, give me advice or laugh and pass away the time. I always had a great time with her, and our relationship grew over the years.
Sandra's just one of the 20 people whom I call my second family at a tiny steakhouse in Connecticut. As the years have passed, I've grown to love every person I work with, not just as a coworker, but as a part of me personally. While most people go home for breaks to relax and see family and friends, I go home to work over 40 hours a week. This break was no different.
People like Sandra have taught me so much about myself and life that it's hard not to mention them after a break such as this. As I am the only employee who isn't married and doesn't have kids, these people offer me a perspective unlike any I've ever had. I give advice about 16-year-olds and drinking, discuss possible outcomes of divorce, and try to understand what it must be like raising a family in today's day and age.
The reason I mention Sandra in particular is because she's having a really rough time lately and is in need of a serious self-assessment. I'm not sure whether you know of anyone who has been or is lost, someone who doesn't remember what it's like to be happy. Over this past break I had a really hard time talking with Sandra because she has lost everything that had value and meaning in her life. She is so confused and afraid that she lacks the ability to change things in her life.
Trapped in a failing marriage and battling depression, Sandra has come to the restaurant so drugged up that carrying a side dish requires both of her hands and five minutes of her time. As those who love her tried to figure out what to do, all I did was listen. Sandra told me things that I couldn't even begin to imagine about despair, heartache and confinement. As she spoke, I couldn't help but see my past struggles in her eyes. Times where I felt as though things would be better if I just waited for them to change without making any effort for myself. Sometimes, it's easier to blame someone else than it is to listen and really understand your own feelings. It takes a lot of guts to listen to yourself and to make the necessary changes within your life.
Although I'd like to say that things have changed with Sandra, they haven't. Sadly enough, it seems as though they have only gotten worse. The reason I mention Sandra in my opening column of the spring semester is to place emphasis on the idea that life isn't always easy. Finding enough courage to help yourself is harder sometimes than just letting the time pass away.
My time spent with Sandra has shown me how hard it is to help someone who's close to you when they aren't able to help themselves. The best advice that I can give is to listen and be there when someone needs you. May this semester be one of joy and one of love and care. I'm here right beside you all to laugh, learn and listen as I struggle with my own doubts and insecurities, and you struggle with your own.
