I'm not going to lie. This school year has been an uphill battle.

During fall semester I

volunteered to direct a play while taking a full load of 16 hours of class, and my father was

diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. (ALS, you know, the ice bucket challenge

everyone and their mother did back in 2014.) For some time, his doctors thought that what he

was experiencing was multifocal motor neuropathy before identifying it as being ALS. I knew he

was ill, but I didn't realize the severity. In May of 2016, we met for lunch to try to heal our rocky

relationship, and he told me that he was ill. I hadn't talked to him in a year, and ignored the

typed letter he had sent me at the beginning of the fall semester. He grieved not being able to

walk me down the aisle and not being able to hold a grandchild or hope to walk the steep slopes

of Calabria, where his parents were from. We've had so many disagreements and so much

anger between us, but no one wants to see their father reduced to tears as he reaches his

winter days.

Come the New Year, I realized that 2016 wasn't left behind, not at all. I was still faced

with the reality of American politics, the reality of the hate and malice that fills the hearts of men

and their leaders. My father was still sick. My family felt fractured. I went into the spring

semester ready to conquer all regardless, only to have my feet knocked out from under me by

an enemy that can neither be physically fought or seen. I fell into a depressive episode so

draining and taxing that I struggled with my work. When the depression let up, anxiety took its

place. The only constant was the voice of the eating disorder in my ear promising me that I

didn't need that meal, I didn't need to eat today - it was all for my own good to not be the pig I'd

let myself become. My schoolwork came second to my fatigue, to my loss of hope, and to my

defeat. Somehow, I made it through spring semester with my mind and GPA in one piece.

I remain confident in my capacity to work and learn in the university setting and to fight

past my own struggles to succeed, but this coming year is going to be increasingly difficult.

Recently, my father and step-mother traded in their Toyota Camry for a modified Sienna, one

that has a ramp that lowers and space for a wheelchair. His doctor is ready to write him a
prescription for a powered wheelchair, theyve already made the bathroom handicap-accessible,

and one of my cousins will be building a ramp in the garage. I learned all three of those things at

once, and it came as a blow. This has been real for me in the past year, but what Im coming to

see is that this isnt normal. This isnt going to be the kind of death a lot of other people go

through with their parents or grandparents, one that happens in old age or is a sudden thing like

cardiac arrest or a stroke, or an aneurysm, like with my grandmother. I dont get to rip off the

bandaid and then mourn. This is going to be a continuous grieving process as I watch him fade

bit by bit, week by week. I turn 21 in October, and Im living something my friends wont likely

see in their lives for another 40 years. Im heartbroken and Im scared. Who wouldnt be?

However, Im being taught all over again that I dont have to be strong all the time, and Im

learning just how important family can be in this.

Ive grown in the past year. I know that I have. Ive realized that at some point, old

grievances must be put to rest in favor of forgiveness and care. As much as Ive worked to tried

to separate myself from my family, I need to be close to them and keep that love and support in

my life. My hopes and dreams arent going anywhere; I have time to see them through. At the

end of the day, my peace of mind comes first. Before Im anyones student, daughter, or sister,

Im a human who fights to heal and to be at peace in my own mind and body. That doesnt mean

that I dont have any of myself to give to others. Im coming to see that I have an overflow of

love and patience and understanding to part onto others who need it, but nothing is so important

to sacrifice my health.

Im trying to continue my healing and growth. In addition to repairing family ties, Im

trying to learn more about my family: our history (my grandparents were both Italian

immigrants), our recipes, our stories, and our traditions. I want to develop a deeper

understanding of my family to help me grow closer to them. This time last year, I was preparing

to go to France. Now Im preparing for summer classes and looking at what I can do with my

talents. Im applying to volunteer at Christ Hospital, Im doing a fieldwork practicum with art
therapy for the elderly with dementia in the fall. My continuing goal this year is to work towards

peace and mindfulness, so Im going to try (emphasis on try) meditation and group therapy. Ive

realized that theres no rush in what Im doing. Im nearing the end of my coursework and Im

preparing to do my capstones for my two majors in my third year. Ive decided not to graduate

early simply because the idea terrifies me and Im just not ready. Im adding on a minor in

anthropology to augment my understanding of the world and its peoples. I love learning about

from where we came and to where were going in our cultural and linguistic development. I have

a cousin who is a professor of anthropology and Im going to ask her just how I can connect that

study to my passion for psychology.

I have absolutely no idea what this year will bring for me. However, Im going to delve

deeper into myself and be whomever Im going to be. That would be enough.