How do you find peace in your life (honestly this got really far from the prompt though)?
When I was twelve, I thought I was invincible—not in the comic book sense, but in the way that I assumed I would always be around. That all changed the day I learned that my friend Danny had lost his fight with cancer. In my young mind, I believed in the fairytale: that he would eventually be victorious.
The memory of Danny laughing and performing magic tricks while hooked to a myriad of machines still replays in my mind. It was a strange paradox: his soft smile and warm features against the plastic tubery and metallic machinery that supported his life. We were each inhibited by our own bodies in different ways. I was hooked on ‘perfection’, scared of judgment and failure, so I hid my ideas from the world. Danny was restrained by his tumors, not allowing him to live through even the simplest things, like going on adventures or graduating high school; the things I took for granted.
Grief distorted my sense of time. I felt like I was walking through a Van Gogh painting, everything blending together, and the meaning of life blurry. All signs pointed to Danny not beating his battle with cancer, but I never accepted it, no matter how many wires came out of his body. That a young, beautiful person could die so tragically challenged the way that I understood life. All of a sudden, it was as though the rose-colored glasses of childhood had been ripped off, and I was struggling to understand this new world.
After some time, I started to regain my footing, but a few things changed drastically. Each time I wanted to complain about something, I‘d think of Danny and my concerns felt trivial. Here I was, worried about failure or being judged for my ideas, whereas Danny didn’t have that luxury. I could make plans for my future, but his future was already spoken for.
I wanted to help. To make a difference. These feelings sparked an impassioned desire in me to help alleviate the anguish of other families fighting pediatric cancer. I most value the connections I make with others through my advocacy for pediatric cancer. Seeing the smiles when I play cards with young cancer patients, supporting parents struggling to come to terms with their child’s suffering, or being able to make another person aware of the lack of adequate funding for pediatric cancer research and treatment, gives my life purpose and helps me stay hopeful.
Originally, my advocacy stemmed from the desire to honor my friend’s memory, but over the years it has become an endeavor that makes me aware of the fact that I'm not invincible and encourages me to make the most of my life. I hope to continue honoring Danny as well as many other brave pediatric cancer patients that I’ve had the privilege of meeting over time. It’s gratifying to know that in some small way, I am of help to people going through difficult times.
My thoughts: Is there a flow/places I can add to?
The memory of Danny laughing and performing magic tricks while hooked to a myriad of machines still replays in my mind. It was a strange paradox: his soft smile and warm features against the plastic tubery and metallic machinery that supported his life. We were each inhibited by our own bodies in different ways. I was hooked on ‘perfection’, scared of judgment and failure, so I hid my ideas from the world. Danny was restrained by his tumors, not allowing him to live through even the simplest things, like going on adventures or graduating high school; the things I took for granted.
Grief distorted my sense of time. I felt like I was walking through a Van Gogh painting, everything blending together, and the meaning of life blurry. All signs pointed to Danny not beating his battle with cancer, but I never accepted it, no matter how many wires came out of his body. That a young, beautiful person could die so tragically challenged the way that I understood life. All of a sudden, it was as though the rose-colored glasses of childhood had been ripped off, and I was struggling to understand this new world.
After some time, I started to regain my footing, but a few things changed drastically. Each time I wanted to complain about something, I‘d think of Danny and my concerns felt trivial. Here I was, worried about failure or being judged for my ideas, whereas Danny didn’t have that luxury. I could make plans for my future, but his future was already spoken for.
I wanted to help. To make a difference. These feelings sparked an impassioned desire in me to help alleviate the anguish of other families fighting pediatric cancer. I most value the connections I make with others through my advocacy for pediatric cancer. Seeing the smiles when I play cards with young cancer patients, supporting parents struggling to come to terms with their child’s suffering, or being able to make another person aware of the lack of adequate funding for pediatric cancer research and treatment, gives my life purpose and helps me stay hopeful.
Originally, my advocacy stemmed from the desire to honor my friend’s memory, but over the years it has become an endeavor that makes me aware of the fact that I'm not invincible and encourages me to make the most of my life. I hope to continue honoring Danny as well as many other brave pediatric cancer patients that I’ve had the privilege of meeting over time. It’s gratifying to know that in some small way, I am of help to people going through difficult times.
My thoughts: Is there a flow/places I can add to?
Wonderful essay! To improve the flow, I think the sentences “Grief distorted my sense of time. I felt like I was walking through a Van Gogh painting, everything blending together, and the meaning of life blurry” could be moved later in the paragraph when you talk about how Danny’s story challenged your understanding of life, or even at the end at the paragraph. It may provide a good transition into the next paragraph where you talk about regaining your footing. But that is one of my favorite sentences in the essay, it’s such a creative description that paints a vivid picture of how you felt. Great job Mallika!
ReplyDeleteYour writing about your experiences, your sorrow and this painful story really broke my heart. Maybe it did stray from the prompt, but I think it's better just for that. I think it's really cool that you took all that, and turned it into motivation for helping others with their hard times.
ReplyDeleteIn terms of writing and flow, as you mention, I think the third and fourth paragraph can be in some places rearranged and moved together. I think the flow breaks a little around there, and the writing may move forward more naturally if the ideas in the third and fourth paragraph could be addressed a little more organically.
I really enjoyed reading this essay. Good job!
I definitely know what you mean to realize you are not invincible.. that's kind of what happened when I had my brain injury. It's hard to accept you're not going to live forever. I like your articulation of these feelings, it is very on point with how they actually feel. I think that my suggestion for this essay is to explain why it is that you learned that yOu are not invincible.. like how is that connected to Danny? My second thing that this essay is missing is perhaps an admission of imperfection, it this makes sense. (this is inspired by Lisa's wise words) To remain connected to your reader, you want to make sure you avoid saying "look how amazing I am what would the world do without me?" I only think you need to pay attention to this in the last three paragraphs.. perhaps a confession or a joke or embarrassing moment could counteract this vibe?
ReplyDeleteNice essay. You do a great job of being vulnerable, especially in the first three paragraphs. I really liked your 2nd paragraph because you used a lot of imagery that allowed the reader to picture the scene and it was also vulnerable. I definitely feel like the essay helped me get to know you better. I thought the flow was pretty good but the transition between the 3rd and 4th paragraph seemed a bit abrupt so maybe add a paragraph in between to connect them or have sentence that connects them better.
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