The Lingering Shadows
>> Sunday, August 9, 2009
Three days ago, on Thursday, I moved from Troy, MI to Wauwatosa, WI. I'm now about half a mile from the medical campus and tomorrow begins the week-long orientation, not to mention another state and another time zone. Though I've been working towards and waiting for this day, now that it's here, lingering shadows are cast from the dark corners of my mind.
For the last 18 years I've lived in Michigan. For the last 5 years I've been at the University of Michigan-Ann Arbor. One does not live somewhere for so long and simply unplug from it all. It's strange and difficult for me to describe this sentimental feeling. As I was packing and unpacking, it seemed as if everything I touched had some memory attached to it. It was the kind of nostalgia that makes one tremble and cry inside.
The biostatistics notes: how we hated that class, how we discussed the homework and the coding, how I somehow managed to pull an "A" in that class. The cancer epidemiology notes: the class I often fell asleep in (the room tended to be cold, and that certainly didn't help) and sat near Yoshi and Wei. The HBHE class with Alicia and the other genetic counselors: how Alicia and I feverishly worked down to the last minute on our final paper and project of the course together (it was quite a novel idea). The genetics book I took with me: heartfelt memories of my time as a GSI. The pathophysiology book I took with me: Dr. Martin Philbert and his amazing lectures that left us enthralled (his British accent certainly helped).
There are other memories too. The PHAST (Public Health Action Support Team) trip I took with a few other students to Beijing and Tianjin, China for a week over Spring Break. I have a scroll that I bargained for in a market with Derrick and the xun that Jackson gave me when we met up briefly in Beijing the second night I was there. The old UMS concert booklets that reminded me of the concerts I saw with friends. The trio I composed but was never played.
Then there were the more intangible memories for which there are no objects to serve as reminders. The late night pizzas with Jackson and Jeff in the dorms freshman year. The massive orgo study sessions. The smaller (and more fun) genetics study sessions in the YK Lounge of South Quad with Shari, Sohil, and Kavya. Playing TNL (thunder 'n' lightning) at the CCRB. Memories of watching Jackson and Dan play Guitar Hero in their apartment senior year. The mini-course on HIV/AIDS that Jackson and I taught to 10 Honors freshman during our final semester of undergrad. The 3-movement string trio that began our trio group with me, Marla, and Shari. Friday night Jewsian dinners with Rui, Jen, and Shari (later simply friday night dinner while watching House MD and Heroes with Shari and Alicia, after Rui and Jen graduated and left). Late night bubble tea (and sometimes popcorn chicken) or coffee runs after studying at the UGLi (Undergrad Library).
The list goes on and on and on. Truly, undergrad (and to an extent, the one year of grad school) comprised the best years of my life thus far. Why had I so planned and looked forward to the future? Why I had I always kept my eyes focused on something ahead? Ann Arbor was more than a home, UM was more than a university - they changed me without me even noticing. How will this next step in life change me? Where will it take me?
It feels as if I've left a part of me behind in Michigan, a version of me that does not want to leave or age or face the future. These lingering shadows - these memories - make me sad that my friends are scattered across the US, and verily, around the world. Perhaps never again will we all be concentrated in a single city. We will dream and reminisce of the days gone by, perhaps with a smile, or perhaps with tears. I always thought it strange that people cry during graduation, and sob softly while attempting to smile for photos together, and hug and embrace as if after a tragedy. But now I believe I have some sense of what that feels like because as I packed and got ready to leave, I realized that a part of me was not ready as tears welled up in the corners of my eyes.
But as Jackson said, "Yeah, we had some good times. But I think it's also good that we should now start working toward our careers." Well said and true; mark my words, we shall see each other again at the end of this stage of life. So long as we remember, the lingering shadows will not fade.
For the last 18 years I've lived in Michigan. For the last 5 years I've been at the University of Michigan-Ann Arbor. One does not live somewhere for so long and simply unplug from it all. It's strange and difficult for me to describe this sentimental feeling. As I was packing and unpacking, it seemed as if everything I touched had some memory attached to it. It was the kind of nostalgia that makes one tremble and cry inside.
The biostatistics notes: how we hated that class, how we discussed the homework and the coding, how I somehow managed to pull an "A" in that class. The cancer epidemiology notes: the class I often fell asleep in (the room tended to be cold, and that certainly didn't help) and sat near Yoshi and Wei. The HBHE class with Alicia and the other genetic counselors: how Alicia and I feverishly worked down to the last minute on our final paper and project of the course together (it was quite a novel idea). The genetics book I took with me: heartfelt memories of my time as a GSI. The pathophysiology book I took with me: Dr. Martin Philbert and his amazing lectures that left us enthralled (his British accent certainly helped).
There are other memories too. The PHAST (Public Health Action Support Team) trip I took with a few other students to Beijing and Tianjin, China for a week over Spring Break. I have a scroll that I bargained for in a market with Derrick and the xun that Jackson gave me when we met up briefly in Beijing the second night I was there. The old UMS concert booklets that reminded me of the concerts I saw with friends. The trio I composed but was never played.
Then there were the more intangible memories for which there are no objects to serve as reminders. The late night pizzas with Jackson and Jeff in the dorms freshman year. The massive orgo study sessions. The smaller (and more fun) genetics study sessions in the YK Lounge of South Quad with Shari, Sohil, and Kavya. Playing TNL (thunder 'n' lightning) at the CCRB. Memories of watching Jackson and Dan play Guitar Hero in their apartment senior year. The mini-course on HIV/AIDS that Jackson and I taught to 10 Honors freshman during our final semester of undergrad. The 3-movement string trio that began our trio group with me, Marla, and Shari. Friday night Jewsian dinners with Rui, Jen, and Shari (later simply friday night dinner while watching House MD and Heroes with Shari and Alicia, after Rui and Jen graduated and left). Late night bubble tea (and sometimes popcorn chicken) or coffee runs after studying at the UGLi (Undergrad Library).
The list goes on and on and on. Truly, undergrad (and to an extent, the one year of grad school) comprised the best years of my life thus far. Why had I so planned and looked forward to the future? Why I had I always kept my eyes focused on something ahead? Ann Arbor was more than a home, UM was more than a university - they changed me without me even noticing. How will this next step in life change me? Where will it take me?
It feels as if I've left a part of me behind in Michigan, a version of me that does not want to leave or age or face the future. These lingering shadows - these memories - make me sad that my friends are scattered across the US, and verily, around the world. Perhaps never again will we all be concentrated in a single city. We will dream and reminisce of the days gone by, perhaps with a smile, or perhaps with tears. I always thought it strange that people cry during graduation, and sob softly while attempting to smile for photos together, and hug and embrace as if after a tragedy. But now I believe I have some sense of what that feels like because as I packed and got ready to leave, I realized that a part of me was not ready as tears welled up in the corners of my eyes.
But as Jackson said, "Yeah, we had some good times. But I think it's also good that we should now start working toward our careers." Well said and true; mark my words, we shall see each other again at the end of this stage of life. So long as we remember, the lingering shadows will not fade.
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2 comments:
That was really well-written, you should take the apology off your "about" description. No need to apologize before you've even made a mistake!
Anyway, I had a lot of similar thoughts when I was moving to DC...going to Beijing felt like study abroad, but actually leaving Michigan was a definite shock. A lot of great memories from Ann Arbor. Don't be too sad though, just think of what an awesome 4 (5) years we had and how few people get to enjoy that.
I'm not sad, per se, but it was emotional. It was an awesome 4-5 years, wasn't it?
Sometimes it feels like time is moving too fast, and moves faster the older we get. Even now in med school, time is speeding up.
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