IMPOSSIBLE:

IN MY FIRST YEAR AT UNIVERSITY, I began studying at every library on Campus. I soon found myself in the Physics library, an unfamiliar, small, and quiet place tucked away from the bustling downtown environment. An idea overcame me at that moment: I raced to the stacks and searched the thesis shelf; lying there was my father?s PhD. In one moment, we were connected. It was a rare instancewhere time paused, and I could feel him in the room; I could seehim studyingin thisspacefor hoursupon end. I could envision my mom editing his work and noting his grammar. This created a bittersweet warmth asmy dad died from cancer in 2015

Moving through education and new adulthood in the absence of a loved one who was caring and involved creates a peculiar standard and an urge to make them proud, even if it is created by our own volition. For me, it generates a goal I?m constantly trying to reach, although I can? t articulateexactly what that is PerhapsI wish toprove that I am okay, that in theeverlasting wakeof grief, I can find success and joy A trend I?veobserved in my university career isnever feeling satisfied with my accomplishments as they become entangled in my own ideasof legacy, both aself-imposed honour and aburden. I doubt thisthought isentirely individual, but it isonethat isseldom shared It is a thought that breaks the idealism we associate with remembrance and exposes the cracks underneath the varnished positivememoriesof thosenolonger here.

I?vehad alot of timeand distanceto accept thisreality, although I know many moving through university have not When my dad died, he became fragmented over time ? moulded into a flawless, untouchable portrait of someoneI felt likeI could not reach. Walkingthrough thesamecity hedid bringlifetolibraries and streets in new ways I remind myself that I walk with both my parents beside me, who always encouraged learning and creativity I know I do not have to study physicsin my father?s absence or cure cancer to makehim proud. I am meant to find thesamejoy in education that hedid. I know that theguilt felt when leaving home does not change, but that it is of my own construction I know these feelings are not easy for any of usto process, but recognizing thesemomentsisvital when wewant to heal and access thegood I yearn to tell everyonewho entersinstitutionswith grief in their paststhat you do not haveto academically or emotionally exhaust yourself to make your loved ones proud. The standard we hold ourselvestoisoften unattainable,and that isokay

We are here, and that in itself is enough

Looking back, I long to hug the fifteen-year-old girl entering a seemingly never-ending wave of grief. I want to tell her that shegoeson to do good, even remarkablethingsand carriesher parentsevery step of theway to her passion for learning, moving on from mistakesand darkness. Sheisconstantly discovering and re-discovering passions, joys, and reflections I long to tell all people experiencing these moments of melancholy:you areyour loved one?sgreatest wonder,and you beinghereisenough.

Emily Hand

Fourth Year

English Literature& TheatreStudiesMajor