I'm a Gypsy

It's true. I am a gypsy, at least part gypsy -- it's a part of my honest to God blood line. I swear. It wasn't until the other night when my friend compared me to gypsies that I truly took ownership of that part of my background. I've never really been one for ethnic stereotypes you know, all Irish drink a lot, all Germans like beer, all Native Americans do rain dances, I could go on for hours -- but now, I'm starting to see a little bit more relevance in where I come from as it relates to how I am today.

My friend looked at me and asked if I knew why gypsies never had any rights and continued to answer saying that they never had any rights, couldn't vote, hold office, etcetera because they were never anywhere long enough to put down roots, to really become part of the community and then he paralleled that with me and my lifestyle and asked me how I made that work.

If it's one thing you'll learn about me, whether you've know me for 20 seconds or 20 years, is that I am constantly on the move. I live and thrive on change. But his question made me uncomfortable, not because I'm ashamed of how I am or because of the accusation of being rootless, but because it's not something I'm fully sure that I've reconciled with myself yet. He's right, I am rootless, I am the equivalent to a tree that you buy at a nursery, I've got a trunk, and branches and leaves but my roots -- well they're kind of there, but they're pretty shallow and short.

So I stood there for a second, slowly walking with him, and I thought about it. And I looked at him and then thought about it some more and then I explained, hopefully coherently, that this is who I am, and where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be doing. He's right, I don't have roots, at least not the ones he meant, but not all people are supposed to and just because you aren't in the same tri-county area with the people you love doesn't mean you love them any less, it just requires a little more effort.

People either stay in contact or they don't. Some people lose touch of each other and there is nothing wrong with that. If we all had each and every friend that we've ever had around until the day we died we wouldn't have the people that are truly our core, we would just have a bunch of so-so friends that when looked at on an individual basis wouldn't mean a whole lot to us. And having moved as much as I have, I don't take it personally if I've lose touch with someone, sometimes it's my fault, sometimes it's their's and sometimes we're both at fault. But either way, it's the way that life works, people come and people go each for their own God-ordained reason. And if those I cross those people's paths again (which has happened on more than one occasion, in different cities, states and even countries than I knew them in before) then so be it, that's great. Speaking to this point is my dear friend, Chris, who I just recently got back in touch with. Some friends are just those kinds of friends who don't need to speak to each other all the time. And even though it is weeks, sometimes months, later they can call the other because something made them think of that person and they can pick up like they just talked yesterday. Chris is one of those friends, we picked up like not a day had passed and it was and still is great. Those are my favorite kind of friends, and that's not to say that I'm lazy with relationships because I'm not. I work very hard to keep the ones that I have because they mean something to me. In the same light I work to start new ones. But friendship to me isn't about talking all the time, it's about caring enough for some person and having enough respect to understand that life gets crazy and that even though life is crazy neither of those people care any less about the other person.

I found a quote that fits exactly what I'm trying to express via my sweet friend Tara that says:

"A friendship that can be ended didn't ever start."
-Mellin de Saint-Gelais, Oeuvres poétique

I explained all of this to Mike and hopefully it made some sort of sense. I realize that this mobile life I lead is not one understood by a whole lot of people, it's a very different upbringing and a very different perspective. Many understand my mobility no more than I can understand many people's immobility and the desire to stay in the same place for years and years.

With all of that being said I know that I might seem a slightly non-chalant when it comes to friendships, I'm really not. And I do probably take advantage of the fact that most of the time people will be there when I get back. That's not a good thing, and it's something I'm working on. But I know and believe with all my heart that the people who want to be around will be there for me and will want to be there for me regardless of where I am. That being said I also understand that people can't handle the whole long-distance friendship thing, it's just a difference of mannerisms, personalities, and perspective. Neither person is right, neither is wrong, it's just life.

And so this all leads both of us to no real conclusion, but I guess maybe at least a little bit more of an understanding: I am a gypsy. And I do have roots, just not geographic ones. I don't have a lot of life-long friendships but the few I do have are ones that I would fight and die for. I come from a family made strong from years of moving to new places, experiencing new things and enduring hardships together when we were all we had. I have a great faith in God that keeps me grounded and hopeful for the future that I know he has promised for me. I have roots, they're just different and I don't have as many as other people. And I'm okay with that, at least I am now. So, to my friend who put me on the spot, thank you. Without meaning to you really forced me to think about and reconcile with something that I hadn't yet and it helped me grow. I hope you're one of the ones who stays in touch.

Bekah v. Week of April 15th

There was nothing unusual about the start of this week, I woke up, laid around in my bed for a while wondering whether or not I actually wanted to get out of bed--I did. I showered, I put on some khakis and a green polo shirt some sandals, grabbed my purse and my bible and I headed to my car for church.

By the end of the service I realized that I am no where near where I should be with my faith, or with my God and I began to pray that he would take my world apart as he saw fit. Little did I know how quickly or how effective that dismantling of my shell of comfort that would be.

By 930 that evening I had lost my boyfriend, due to my own decision, and while it was for the best, it still stung. A little more than 12 hours after that I nearly lost several friends in the Virginia Tech shootings. Thank God they're all safe, sound, and alive. Tuesday my projects began to pile up, and after the last two days that I had had I was ready to break down. (It didn't help that my little sister's senior prom was the day before all this happened and I missed it because I live to far away.) Tuesday night was the VT vigil on campus, 2500 people came. It was probably one of most surreal experiences I've ever had. It's incredible how something that far away can have such an effect on people who (most of them) had had no connection with the incident other than CNN.

Wednesday and Thursday got a little better, things began to look like they were calming down. Friday was splendid until about 2 o'clock that afternoon, I had been going over my degree program and I found a few somethings that didn't seem right, so I called around, talked with my advisor, did some number crunching only to find that I have 5 credit hours short of being able to graduate on time. I. was. devastated. Mad was not the word. I worked so hard on getting that thing put together and now because some advisor didn't count right, didn't fill out the paperwork right, didn't double check their work right, now in addition to my job and my internship I somehow have to squeeze in 5 hours worth (which will really be 6 because so few classes are worth 2 credit hours) of classes. So much for a social life. I'd been so looking forward to having a mental break this summer and after this semester I really really needed it. Back to Metro I suppose.

The world isn't over, but for a while this week I really thought my emotional and mental sanity was.