What surely must be a 9 on the “Eloi” scale:
In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to be a bit of a complainer. I know. I know… You can all stop the gasps of, “No… Really?” As much as I focus on bad news and critical self-examination, sometimes things need to be put in perspective.
A friend of mine has been working on an extraordinarily long and complicated document for the law journal at Washburn Law. She has poured her heart and soul into making her essay good enough for the ridiculously critical editors (I refuse to call them ‘comments’ and ‘notes’ since those are simply replacement words to make our shared discipline more esoteric and unfriendly to the lay citizen).
The document has taken her what has to be the better part of a year from beginning to end, and the research she has done to make the document technically correct would put to shame some of the Masters’ theses I’ve read.
This essay has been her life. She has spent weekend after weekend at the law school working on this essay from early in the morning until late at night. She has foregone important social activities and personal luxuries to finish the document in a manner in which the editors of the law journal could accept.
The fully finalized version of the document is due on Friday. Like everyone with a project that they care about, her last two weeks have been a virtual nonstop fevered frenzy of work trying to make it just a little bit better by the deadline.
Yesterday, her computer went down. It took with it the document, including all of the recent changes she had made in the past several weeks, effectively leaving her only the copy that the law journal editors had last, and over which they had so thoroughly berated her for what they viewed (quite obsessively) as its poor quality.
The data recovery team at Best Buy said that there was no recovery possible.
As if this news were not enough to induce a terrible whirlwind of panic and general hopelessness, she also discovered that day that he brother was in the hospital after sustaining a head injury which left him unresponsive for quite a while. It was serious enough a head injury that he had been kept at the hospital for a full day while the physicians ran a battery of tests to see if anything was seriously wrong (hemorrhaging, brain damage, and such).
At the end of my high school career, I had a few days like these. I had known before then that other people suffered, but only after experiencing great suffering myself was I acutely aware of how bad life can sometimes be. I underwent what might be called a crisis of faith, and thought I understood what could be meant by the Aramaic/Hebrew phrase, “Eloi, Eloi, l’ama sabachthani” (My lord, My lord, why have you forsaken me?). These were turning points in my life which still shape the person I am.
This woman, though, taught me a lesson today. Despite her deep loss of a project which is important to her, and the uncertainty and fear caused by her brother’s injury, she showed up to school this morning, looking… well… normal. She was well-dressed, stoic, and even managed a few smiles and some friendly banter.
I don’t know if it is a sign of my own personal weakness or of the inner strength of this one woman, but whichever of these options may be correct, I have to stop and salute the durable material out of which ideal Plains people are made. With as much flak as Kansans sometimes take for our image as backward hicks, we breed a special type of person out here from rough farmer stock that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Any woman who can bear a burden like hers with a straight back, squared shoulders, and a face resolutely turned forward deserves some sort of Congressional medal for bravery in the face of adversity.
Eloi, Eloi? Keep her strong, and remind her that she has the love of her friends and family.
A friend of mine has been working on an extraordinarily long and complicated document for the law journal at Washburn Law. She has poured her heart and soul into making her essay good enough for the ridiculously critical editors (I refuse to call them ‘comments’ and ‘notes’ since those are simply replacement words to make our shared discipline more esoteric and unfriendly to the lay citizen).
The document has taken her what has to be the better part of a year from beginning to end, and the research she has done to make the document technically correct would put to shame some of the Masters’ theses I’ve read.
This essay has been her life. She has spent weekend after weekend at the law school working on this essay from early in the morning until late at night. She has foregone important social activities and personal luxuries to finish the document in a manner in which the editors of the law journal could accept.
The fully finalized version of the document is due on Friday. Like everyone with a project that they care about, her last two weeks have been a virtual nonstop fevered frenzy of work trying to make it just a little bit better by the deadline.
Yesterday, her computer went down. It took with it the document, including all of the recent changes she had made in the past several weeks, effectively leaving her only the copy that the law journal editors had last, and over which they had so thoroughly berated her for what they viewed (quite obsessively) as its poor quality.
The data recovery team at Best Buy said that there was no recovery possible.
As if this news were not enough to induce a terrible whirlwind of panic and general hopelessness, she also discovered that day that he brother was in the hospital after sustaining a head injury which left him unresponsive for quite a while. It was serious enough a head injury that he had been kept at the hospital for a full day while the physicians ran a battery of tests to see if anything was seriously wrong (hemorrhaging, brain damage, and such).
At the end of my high school career, I had a few days like these. I had known before then that other people suffered, but only after experiencing great suffering myself was I acutely aware of how bad life can sometimes be. I underwent what might be called a crisis of faith, and thought I understood what could be meant by the Aramaic/Hebrew phrase, “Eloi, Eloi, l’ama sabachthani” (My lord, My lord, why have you forsaken me?). These were turning points in my life which still shape the person I am.
This woman, though, taught me a lesson today. Despite her deep loss of a project which is important to her, and the uncertainty and fear caused by her brother’s injury, she showed up to school this morning, looking… well… normal. She was well-dressed, stoic, and even managed a few smiles and some friendly banter.
I don’t know if it is a sign of my own personal weakness or of the inner strength of this one woman, but whichever of these options may be correct, I have to stop and salute the durable material out of which ideal Plains people are made. With as much flak as Kansans sometimes take for our image as backward hicks, we breed a special type of person out here from rough farmer stock that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Any woman who can bear a burden like hers with a straight back, squared shoulders, and a face resolutely turned forward deserves some sort of Congressional medal for bravery in the face of adversity.
Eloi, Eloi? Keep her strong, and remind her that she has the love of her friends and family.
posted by The Academian | 4:03 PM
3 Comments:
Oh kansasgirl. I heart her. She should be nominated for Sainthood. Do they do that for non-Catholics?
Wouldn't it be neat to be a saint? There would be a high holiday named for you. That's got to be a serious ego boost, right? "And today is the feast of St. Kansasgirl..." I wonder if you'd need a special pope hat to name people saints, 'cause I'm not sure where to get my hands on a miter.
Oh, after that I just want to kiss her! And then put her in my pocket.
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