Attempting to learn from every experience that comes my way, I will take this much from Anonymous -- to be more openly thankful and grateful to those who love and care for me. So I'm going to thank 5 people today on my blog, because they are the 5 people in my head right now, regardless of whether I think they will actually be reading.
Thank you to Julianne, who was at school studying on November 6. Thank you for being at school, for allowing me to get us Starbucks, for sitting in that classroom with horrible temperature control, for that conversation we had about your moot court problem right before I got a phone call that would change both of our lives. Thank you for being there and for allowing me to be there with you when I got that phone call. A side thank you to whatever in the universe made me go to school that day so that I wouldn't be alone when I got that phone call. Thank you for pulling me to the ground and holding me when I started shaking and kept asking you, "what are we going to do" and repeating "no." Thank you for being strong for both of us that day.
Thank you to Scott Ramon Seguro Mescudi, a/k/a Kid Cudi, whom I will probably never meet in my real life and who most certainly will never read this. Your music has given me wonderful moments with Shane during his life and his death. Your new album was the only music that I could listen to after Shane was killed. I know you never met Shane and you couldn't have known that your music would speak to me so much, but I will always feel like you wrote that album for me to help me get through all of this. I do know that you know grief and loss and I hear that every time I listen to your music. Thank you for writing the line "birds seen flying around, you never see them too long on the ground," because I keep that in my heart and say it everyday.
Kid Cudi's "Mr. Rager"
Thank you to Patty, the director at Gendernalik Funeral Home in New Baltimore, Michigan. Thank you for knowing when I needed a hug and when I did not. Thank you for being magical, in that you are a strong woman and a kind woman at the same time. Thank you for making a really shitty time in my family's life as not shitty as possible. Thank you for allowing us to play rap music during Shane's viewing. I told you that I hoped I never had to see you again, and I mean that in the best way possible. But if I ever do have to be at a funeral home again, I wouldn't mind being around you, because you care and you take care of people and I wish that I could be more like you.
Thank you to my big brother, Garrett. I know that you didn't have to do anything that you have done for my family. You didn't know if we would love you or hate you, but you were there, anyways. You didn't have to be at the funeral home every day, all day. You didn't have to be at the funeral. You didn't have to stick around afterward for my family and me. I know that you don't have to be my new big brother but I'm so glad that you are. You remind me that family isn't just the one into which you are born, but the one you make yourself. Thank you for making me happy and sad at the same time when you talk about the Army and war and life, because sometimes I allow myself to pretend that I'm listening to Shane instead of you. You were the source material for many of Shane's opinions on those topics, and I'm so glad that he learned from you and that I get to have you in my life if I can't have Shane. My mom says that she can see how good of a soul you have. I don't have the ability to see that, but I feel it every time you check on me and make sure that I'm doing okay and studying and not falling off the face of the planet. I hope that I'm as decent of a little sister as I was of a big sister, because you're going to be stuck with me for awhile.
Thank you to my mom's cousin, Peggy. Thank you for sitting with me before the funeral started, even though we didn't know one another. Thank you for not being religious and for not telling me that Shane was in a better place and for not telling me that you were praying for my family and me. Thank you for being a real person and for understanding without me having to say much. Thank you for being one of the few people that I could talk to inside of the church and for finding me where I was hiding and for just sitting with me.
Pfc Shane M. Reifert
Shane during a sweep of the Shuryak Valley, approximately 3 weeks before he was killed. Photo Credit: PFC Sean Stromback
Showing posts with label anonymous. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anonymous. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Moving On
When I woke up yesterday, I thought that I was going to have a productive day. I headed to the gym and worked out with my trainer. I showered. I put on something that resembled an outfit, even though I wasn't leaving the house. I put my books out on my table and was prepared to study. I decided that I'd write a blog entry because I had a mild case of the mean reds and then I even allowed myself to take a nap since sometimes seemingly lazy activities like writing take a lot out of me.
I woke up from my nap with way too many messages on my phone and a rude and inconsiderate comment on a blog post. And it ruined the rest of my day. I'd like to be able to say that the person who commented did not have an effect on me, but then I would be a liar. I resigned myself to bed for the rest of the day. I allowed myself to be weak and to feel sorry for myself. I couldn't eat. I felt like vomiting. I wanted to sleep but could not. I couldn't watch anything, listen to anything, or read anything, because everything reminded me of Shane and how I was probably letting him down at the moment by just moping around.
Some people will probably think that I'm a little foolish for acting in such a manner, or for letting Anonymous know that I allowed him/her to get into my head. And depending on the moment, I might be included in that group of people. But at this moment, it feels like the right thing to do. I want Anonymous to know that I was hurt by a stranger's words because all too often the person committing a hurtful act is unaware that he or she is being hurtful. Maybe Anonymous was being nice, in his/her mind. But "nice" is a relative term, and I want Anonymous to know that he/she was being hurtful and cruel and disrespectful and a genuinely awful person. Since Anonymous and I are allegedly Facebook friends, I hope that he/she deletes me as a friend, since we are obviously not. That way I don't appear ignorant or misguided and he/she doesn't have to read anything I ever write again.
Being a person who doesn't care what others think is something that I'm constantly striving for, but something I never achieve. Sometimes I present myself as the type of person who doesn't care what others think. But deep down, it hurts my feelings. Sometimes others' words can devastate me. As tough as I can appear, I can be rather squishy on the inside, to borrow a phrase that was once said to me.
The only person who I know didn't often allow others' opinions of him sway his thoughts was Shane. And he would always tell me that I needed to do the same. Since we didn't share the same brain or anything, I don't know if he was actually able to block out hurtful things or if he had created some sort of defensive mechanism against it or if he was just lying and going the "fake it 'til you make it route" when it came to allowing others to bother him. And I won't ever know. But in my mind, Shane had just found a way to not let others in.
Shane was a physically small person, especially when he was a kid. He got picked on and got sad about it. Mean boys at school got into his head. He used to not be able to order at restaurants because he didn't like confrontation. When he got older, Shane spent much of him time hiding behind a computer screen in a world of gaming -- it was only after his death that I realized he had an entire network of friends in that world and that he hadn't become some sort of scary recluse. If Shane was alive right now, he'd find a way to fly back to Michigan to kill me himself for letting other people know these things.
What's the point of all of this? Well, somewhere along the line, Shane bootstrapped himself. He joined the Army. He literally left a boy and came home a man, there is photographic evidence of this. Maybe it's something he was taught during Basic. Maybe it was something he taught himself. But I know that when Shane came home, he didn't allow other people to get inside of his head.
I wish that I could have been like that yesterday, but I wasn't strong enough. Today, however, I am ridding Anonymous from my mind. Yesterday, I told my mom that I never wanted to set foot in my law school again, knowing there was some jerk thinking nasty things about me, but that was just the mean reds talking. I yet again received an outpouring of kind words and texts and emails and phone calls and comments from my actual friends. So today, I am allowing the words that warm my heart to permeate my brain, instead of cruel and ignorant words. I have finals for which I need to study and a chocolate chip waffle to eat and music to hear and friends to sit near to while I study.
I woke up from my nap with way too many messages on my phone and a rude and inconsiderate comment on a blog post. And it ruined the rest of my day. I'd like to be able to say that the person who commented did not have an effect on me, but then I would be a liar. I resigned myself to bed for the rest of the day. I allowed myself to be weak and to feel sorry for myself. I couldn't eat. I felt like vomiting. I wanted to sleep but could not. I couldn't watch anything, listen to anything, or read anything, because everything reminded me of Shane and how I was probably letting him down at the moment by just moping around.
Some people will probably think that I'm a little foolish for acting in such a manner, or for letting Anonymous know that I allowed him/her to get into my head. And depending on the moment, I might be included in that group of people. But at this moment, it feels like the right thing to do. I want Anonymous to know that I was hurt by a stranger's words because all too often the person committing a hurtful act is unaware that he or she is being hurtful. Maybe Anonymous was being nice, in his/her mind. But "nice" is a relative term, and I want Anonymous to know that he/she was being hurtful and cruel and disrespectful and a genuinely awful person. Since Anonymous and I are allegedly Facebook friends, I hope that he/she deletes me as a friend, since we are obviously not. That way I don't appear ignorant or misguided and he/she doesn't have to read anything I ever write again.
Being a person who doesn't care what others think is something that I'm constantly striving for, but something I never achieve. Sometimes I present myself as the type of person who doesn't care what others think. But deep down, it hurts my feelings. Sometimes others' words can devastate me. As tough as I can appear, I can be rather squishy on the inside, to borrow a phrase that was once said to me.
The only person who I know didn't often allow others' opinions of him sway his thoughts was Shane. And he would always tell me that I needed to do the same. Since we didn't share the same brain or anything, I don't know if he was actually able to block out hurtful things or if he had created some sort of defensive mechanism against it or if he was just lying and going the "fake it 'til you make it route" when it came to allowing others to bother him. And I won't ever know. But in my mind, Shane had just found a way to not let others in.
Shane was a physically small person, especially when he was a kid. He got picked on and got sad about it. Mean boys at school got into his head. He used to not be able to order at restaurants because he didn't like confrontation. When he got older, Shane spent much of him time hiding behind a computer screen in a world of gaming -- it was only after his death that I realized he had an entire network of friends in that world and that he hadn't become some sort of scary recluse. If Shane was alive right now, he'd find a way to fly back to Michigan to kill me himself for letting other people know these things.
What's the point of all of this? Well, somewhere along the line, Shane bootstrapped himself. He joined the Army. He literally left a boy and came home a man, there is photographic evidence of this. Maybe it's something he was taught during Basic. Maybe it was something he taught himself. But I know that when Shane came home, he didn't allow other people to get inside of his head.
I wish that I could have been like that yesterday, but I wasn't strong enough. Today, however, I am ridding Anonymous from my mind. Yesterday, I told my mom that I never wanted to set foot in my law school again, knowing there was some jerk thinking nasty things about me, but that was just the mean reds talking. I yet again received an outpouring of kind words and texts and emails and phone calls and comments from my actual friends. So today, I am allowing the words that warm my heart to permeate my brain, instead of cruel and ignorant words. I have finals for which I need to study and a chocolate chip waffle to eat and music to hear and friends to sit near to while I study.
Monday, December 6, 2010
In Re: Jerky, Anonymous Individual Who Commented on my Latest Post
Dear Anonymous,
Thank you so much for not feeling "bad" for me. If I wanted anyone to feel BADLY for me (you see what I did there? I used the English language properly, unlike yourself), I certainly wouldn't be asking anyone at law school. You are a coward and the type of person who gives lawyers a bad name.
You claim to have been around me "enough to have a pretty good sense of the kind of person you are." Yet, we're clearly not friends. My friends know that I'm NEVER looking for anyone to feel badly for me. They know that sometimes I need a hug and sometimes I need them to tell me a story and sometimes I need them to just sit with me in silence so that I have someone to be near me when the giant hole that has been ripped into my heart starts hurting. They're also not cowards like you, a person hiding behind anonymity to write hurtful things. And I'm woman enough to admit that your words were hurtful. If they had a problem with me, they would tell me to my face because I don't associate myself with sniveling, insensitive assholes like yourself. And if you're actually around me enough at school, you would notice that I've been absent from the building since Shane died. I don't go to school because I don't want pity from anyone. I want my space and to be left alone when I'm at school because it's school and I'm still attempting to become a kick ass lawyer. I don't want to talk to anyone about Shane or how I'm feeling. The times I am at school, I surround myself with my close friends or talk with professors whose opinions matter to me. If I happen to catch myself alone, I keep my head down and pretend to be on my phone so that I don't have to talk to anyone.
You tell me that I should feel grateful and thankful. THANK YOU!!! Your words are just so appreciated and I'm so glad that someone who obviously knows nothing about death or grief or sacrifice told me how I should feel! That's exactly what I needed today and you've just really cleared up so much for me.
You've also probably never had an actual conversation with anyone who is actively serving in our military, or else you wouldn't make such asinine comments about how there isn't a draft right now and how I'm "misguided" at my best and "ignorant" at my worst for calling Afghanistan a shit hole. The reason we aren't in a draft situation is because there are brave men and women who VOLUNTEER to give up their lives, their friends, their family, their freedom, so that some whiner like you doesn't have to get drafted. If you'd like to have a conversation with a brave man or woman, please let me know and I will make sure that one of them contacts you when they aren't busy risking their lives in some shit hole so that some asshole like yourself can hide behind a computer screen.
I started this blog as a place for people to donate money that goes directly to Shane's brothers who are still fighting in Afghanistan. The amount of money that we've raised is amazing and is going to help over 30 men during the upcoming cold Afghan winter, as we are able to supply them with the best boots that money can buy so that they might better navigate the rough terrain in which they are often fighting, along with cold weather gear for when they are out on long missions.
I'm guessing that you haven't donated anything. If you're so grateful for Shane's death, put your money where your big mouth is and make a donation.
I also started the blog so that everyone who knew and loved Shane could easily find funeral information and could share memories about Shane with one another.
I've kept writing because I am a writer and my words touch people. I'm not patting myself on the back, but after having 100s of people tell me how much they enjoy reading this blog, I've started to believe them. This blog keeps Shane's memory alive for me and for others. And it's therapeutic for me to write. I write in a stream of consciousness style intentionally. Since you're an idiot, I'll explain and let you know that means that I write whatever is in my head at the time. I don't want my writing to be too edited or too nice. I want it to be real. And if I'm doing my job properly, that means that the reader might gain a small sense of what I feel. Obviously, this entry wasn't one of my best since it produced such a cruel comment from you. My choice in writing style also means that I don't write about every thought and feeling that comes into my head, or I'd be on the computer all day. So if you read through my entries, you won't find any posts really expressing how grateful and thankful I am for everyone who has been so kind to my family and me in the past 30 days. My reason? Not like you deserve to know, but for the other people who read this blog, it's because there are simply not words in the English language that express exactly how grateful and thankful I am. Shane was loved by so many and his death affected so many. And I feel that love on a daily basis. I wish that I had the words to adequately express how grateful I am, but I don't have those today. Today, I felt angry at Shane for being dead, so that's what I wrote about. It's something that I know other people who have gone through what I'm experiencing have probably felt. It's honest. It's real. It's not a pretty emotion and I feel sick to my stomach for feeling this way. But it's what I feel. And I made myself a promise when I began writing here that I would write what I felt in my heart, no matter how ugly that feeling.
I'm going to leave your comment, Anonymous. I knew when I started writing that there would be comments that I might not like. Thanks for being my first! We'll always have this special memory together. It is a free country after all, and according to some stuff I've learned at the law school we allegedly both attend, the First Amendment allows assholes like you the freedom to make ignorant comments.
So thanks so much for your words. They've just really been so helpful to me today. Oops, there I go getting all pissy. "My bad."
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Reifert
Thank you so much for not feeling "bad" for me. If I wanted anyone to feel BADLY for me (you see what I did there? I used the English language properly, unlike yourself), I certainly wouldn't be asking anyone at law school. You are a coward and the type of person who gives lawyers a bad name.
You claim to have been around me "enough to have a pretty good sense of the kind of person you are." Yet, we're clearly not friends. My friends know that I'm NEVER looking for anyone to feel badly for me. They know that sometimes I need a hug and sometimes I need them to tell me a story and sometimes I need them to just sit with me in silence so that I have someone to be near me when the giant hole that has been ripped into my heart starts hurting. They're also not cowards like you, a person hiding behind anonymity to write hurtful things. And I'm woman enough to admit that your words were hurtful. If they had a problem with me, they would tell me to my face because I don't associate myself with sniveling, insensitive assholes like yourself. And if you're actually around me enough at school, you would notice that I've been absent from the building since Shane died. I don't go to school because I don't want pity from anyone. I want my space and to be left alone when I'm at school because it's school and I'm still attempting to become a kick ass lawyer. I don't want to talk to anyone about Shane or how I'm feeling. The times I am at school, I surround myself with my close friends or talk with professors whose opinions matter to me. If I happen to catch myself alone, I keep my head down and pretend to be on my phone so that I don't have to talk to anyone.
You tell me that I should feel grateful and thankful. THANK YOU!!! Your words are just so appreciated and I'm so glad that someone who obviously knows nothing about death or grief or sacrifice told me how I should feel! That's exactly what I needed today and you've just really cleared up so much for me.
You've also probably never had an actual conversation with anyone who is actively serving in our military, or else you wouldn't make such asinine comments about how there isn't a draft right now and how I'm "misguided" at my best and "ignorant" at my worst for calling Afghanistan a shit hole. The reason we aren't in a draft situation is because there are brave men and women who VOLUNTEER to give up their lives, their friends, their family, their freedom, so that some whiner like you doesn't have to get drafted. If you'd like to have a conversation with a brave man or woman, please let me know and I will make sure that one of them contacts you when they aren't busy risking their lives in some shit hole so that some asshole like yourself can hide behind a computer screen.
I started this blog as a place for people to donate money that goes directly to Shane's brothers who are still fighting in Afghanistan. The amount of money that we've raised is amazing and is going to help over 30 men during the upcoming cold Afghan winter, as we are able to supply them with the best boots that money can buy so that they might better navigate the rough terrain in which they are often fighting, along with cold weather gear for when they are out on long missions.
I'm guessing that you haven't donated anything. If you're so grateful for Shane's death, put your money where your big mouth is and make a donation.
I also started the blog so that everyone who knew and loved Shane could easily find funeral information and could share memories about Shane with one another.
I've kept writing because I am a writer and my words touch people. I'm not patting myself on the back, but after having 100s of people tell me how much they enjoy reading this blog, I've started to believe them. This blog keeps Shane's memory alive for me and for others. And it's therapeutic for me to write. I write in a stream of consciousness style intentionally. Since you're an idiot, I'll explain and let you know that means that I write whatever is in my head at the time. I don't want my writing to be too edited or too nice. I want it to be real. And if I'm doing my job properly, that means that the reader might gain a small sense of what I feel. Obviously, this entry wasn't one of my best since it produced such a cruel comment from you. My choice in writing style also means that I don't write about every thought and feeling that comes into my head, or I'd be on the computer all day. So if you read through my entries, you won't find any posts really expressing how grateful and thankful I am for everyone who has been so kind to my family and me in the past 30 days. My reason? Not like you deserve to know, but for the other people who read this blog, it's because there are simply not words in the English language that express exactly how grateful and thankful I am. Shane was loved by so many and his death affected so many. And I feel that love on a daily basis. I wish that I had the words to adequately express how grateful I am, but I don't have those today. Today, I felt angry at Shane for being dead, so that's what I wrote about. It's something that I know other people who have gone through what I'm experiencing have probably felt. It's honest. It's real. It's not a pretty emotion and I feel sick to my stomach for feeling this way. But it's what I feel. And I made myself a promise when I began writing here that I would write what I felt in my heart, no matter how ugly that feeling.
I'm going to leave your comment, Anonymous. I knew when I started writing that there would be comments that I might not like. Thanks for being my first! We'll always have this special memory together. It is a free country after all, and according to some stuff I've learned at the law school we allegedly both attend, the First Amendment allows assholes like you the freedom to make ignorant comments.
So thanks so much for your words. They've just really been so helpful to me today. Oops, there I go getting all pissy. "My bad."
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Reifert
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