Every time I walk on campus at uni now, I think to myself, "It's been a while."
Due to being on clinical placements full-time now, I hardly ever come back to uni nowadays, except to see the lovely health insurance lady or for random classes. Having a day off on medical leave today, I spent some time on campus catching up with people and to get some work done as well.
As I walked to the library, this one spot caught my eye, and with it brought back the painful memory of the time I sat there on those steps and cried alone in my black dress.
That was the day we said goodbye to you for good.
This is something I have not thought about for years, but as I pondered on that, everything started coming back to me. The funeral, the people crowded outside the religious center, the ceremony, the hugs from friends, the strong wind, meeting your tearful parents for the first time, and how I felt so completely shaken, for I was unable to comprehend how a life could have been taken so suddenly and at such a young age. I can't believe I'm older now than you were then when you left us.
I didn't know you very well, granted, and since then, yet another tragic passing has happened in our cohort. Today though, as I walk these pathways I used to walk, reflect on how far I have come since, and consider that I will be graduating in just a few short months.. I remember you Andrew. I remember how we met at that clinical skills class and how you were (successfully) trying to impress me with your ability to make the blood pressure machine go through the roof when you flexed your (almost ridiculously) massive arms.
I wish you could have graduated with us, I really do.
And yet I realize.. that if things were different and you stayed a part of our graduating class of 2015, we may still have never become anything more than the acquaintances we were then.
It's strange how life works out in ways we never expected it to hey?
So, I just wanted to say, Andrew.. that I remember you, and that a part of me always will, even if only in sporadic instances and for but a mere moment.
I remember you.
Due to being on clinical placements full-time now, I hardly ever come back to uni nowadays, except to see the lovely health insurance lady or for random classes. Having a day off on medical leave today, I spent some time on campus catching up with people and to get some work done as well.
As I walked to the library, this one spot caught my eye, and with it brought back the painful memory of the time I sat there on those steps and cried alone in my black dress.
That was the day we said goodbye to you for good.
This is something I have not thought about for years, but as I pondered on that, everything started coming back to me. The funeral, the people crowded outside the religious center, the ceremony, the hugs from friends, the strong wind, meeting your tearful parents for the first time, and how I felt so completely shaken, for I was unable to comprehend how a life could have been taken so suddenly and at such a young age. I can't believe I'm older now than you were then when you left us.
I didn't know you very well, granted, and since then, yet another tragic passing has happened in our cohort. Today though, as I walk these pathways I used to walk, reflect on how far I have come since, and consider that I will be graduating in just a few short months.. I remember you Andrew. I remember how we met at that clinical skills class and how you were (successfully) trying to impress me with your ability to make the blood pressure machine go through the roof when you flexed your (almost ridiculously) massive arms.
I wish you could have graduated with us, I really do.
And yet I realize.. that if things were different and you stayed a part of our graduating class of 2015, we may still have never become anything more than the acquaintances we were then.
It's strange how life works out in ways we never expected it to hey?
So, I just wanted to say, Andrew.. that I remember you, and that a part of me always will, even if only in sporadic instances and for but a mere moment.
I remember you.
