Sunday morning, I read over the journal entry I had of the experience and did a lot of thinking. It showed me a lot about myself and my friend that, at the time, I could not see through my grief.
After Mary Ellen died, there was a period there where I "lost myself." I could not seem to do the same things I had done before or at least couldn't manage to do anything the way I had used to.
As bad of a time as that was, I can look back now and see what that forced me to do and see that it was a good thing. When she died, I had to let go of preconceptions and habitual actions. From that moment on, I had to have meaning in everything I did, or it wasn't worth doing. That included things like negative comments and how I saw myself and others.
I also was forced to step up. To become an active player in my life. Once I saw how one of my teachers could be taken away, I was determined to learn everything I could while I could. And that's something I've just kept doing.
It makes me wonder how many bad things in life are really bad things, you know.
