Thursday 6 October 2011

Assessment Two: Telling Factual Stories

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people don't just happen. 
- Elisabeth Kübler-Ross 

We meet so many people in a lifetime, but very few make a big impression on our lives. Some may stay with us for a lifetime, and others only pass our lives by. When I met her, I knew this quote was true. She was one of the strongest people I knew, who had the most tremendous heart and a smile that was larger than life. To be in the presence of another human being is just so awesome. To be shocked and amazed by their sheer beauty is something special. It is to be arrested. But in a world so selfish and materialistic, we often miss the amazement. 

We met just shy of two months ago, on a late night shift. Both of us in training. Her confidence was overwhelming at first, and I felt uneasy being in the presence of her and the guy next to her. They seemed to get along far too well for two people who had just met. But I knew nothing of their past. It was one that was to be kept a dark secret.

It was a long eight hours that finished up at six in the morning. A shift as stressful as those, would lead even a non-smoker onto a smokers break. I swung the back door to the ally open and saw her silhouette sitting in solitude on the end of the stairs in the distance. Back curved over and hand cupped around her ear. I knelt down. Put my arm around her, "do you need anything?" I asked with grave concern. "My puffer please, I can't breathe!" Her voice was heavy and I could hear the struggle in her breaths. My stomach knotted as I search her Guess bag and realised that it wasn't there. "Are you sure you brought it with you, darling? It's not here..." "Yes!" she panicked. "I never leave home without it. Please, find it!" I looked again and then glanced up at her, not taking my eyes away from hers. "I think you need to put the phone down," I said suggestively as I gently reached up and removed it from her ear. I had no idea who she was, but I knew she needed me. I moved in closer and hugged her, "just breathe for me, love. Just concentrate on your breathing." 

She slept for an hour before waking to the sound of a delivery truck, backing up in front of us. She took a little while to register where she was, before she lifted her head and looked at me. Her smile was back, and the pain in her eyes was replaced with embarrassment. “I guess I should explain,” she chirped. “You don’t have to say anything, don’t worry.” “No, no, I want to tell you... I need to.” I sat and listened to what seemed like the script of a movie.  She began telling me about the man who was on the phone, and the recent loss in her life.

I learnt so much heartache in the hour that followed. The quote 'never judge a book by it's cover,' really rang true. Her best friend had died in a car accident the month before. It was a week before her birthday, and her friend had been waiting for her call. She decided it could wait and never rang, and that night her best friend died. Her car rolled four times before hitting a tree. “I have nightmares all the time she said. But every time it’s me driving the car. It should have been me that went that night, not her. I should have called her it would have changed the whole thing.”

I went numb. The whole hour, I could hardly say a word. What was there to say? What do you say when someone else’s life comes crashing down right beside you? There are no words, no language consoling enough to heal such wounds. I pulled her closer, and kept my arm around her shoulder. We sat in silence for a while. Not an awkward silence, but one that felt mending. Just to be in the company of another person was healing.

Finally I drew in a deep breath, “so when’s her eighteenth then?” I questioned about her best friend. “It’s on the second,” she replied, “why?” I got up and walked inside, returning ten minutes later. She looked puzzled as I pushed the door back open and sat on the edge of the step. “We’re not working on the second anymore. We have some celebrating to do.” 

 “I guess I should continue telling you about that call,” she murmured, the smile slowly fading, but never gone. Her phone rang again. It was him. He was a Muslim man, twenty-six years of age and ran his own business. A few businesses actually. His whole life revolved around family. He married for the soul reason of raising kids, but as he learnt that his wife was baron, he felt he had no obligation to her anymore and turned back to my friend. He wanted a divorce, but his parents told him, that he would be a disgrace to his family. If he left his wife, as a non-virgin, she would be worthless to any other Muslim man. She would never marry again. 

We became so close over the next month, to the point of inseparable. Things with her and that man became increasingly more complex. He wanted her to convert religion. He wanted her to move states. Threats followed. His wife began threatening to turn him into his family if he ever left her. She promised to make his life hell. That night, we got the call that he was in hospital after trying to commit suicide. We sat together all night, praying that he'd make it through. That he'd be okay. Then one day, his mother caught them fighting and the divorce papers were finalised.

She’s still not gone though. She comes back all the time, scarred from the drama that was tied to the marriage. He knows he’s done wrong by her, but nothing will be able to mend that. He proposed to my friend last week. I told her she was too young to get married. Still too immature and naive. ‘Young marriages never work out,’ I told her. ‘Your parents will never accept this,’ I tried to explain. But then she asked me to be her Maid of Honour. How could I be angry at her anymore? She just gave me one of the greatest gifts anyone could receive. To be in the presence of another human being is amazing. To be such a large part of their life, is a timeless feeling. We should always cherish the people who pass through our lives. Respect everyone we meet, because we never know what burdens, pains, or hardships they hold on their shoulders. 

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