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My Life Is Not Like A Movie



Movies have always played a huge role in my life and who I am. I recall sneaking into the living room after bedtime and watching a movie after my mom had fallen asleep. The screen had a way of pulling me in so deep that when the credits rolled before my eyes, I felt as if I was waking up from a dream. Movies are usually structured in three-acts. In the first act, the main character begins to develop; by the end of act two the viewer is introduced to the character’s problem. Finally in the third act, the problem is resolved and the character learns a lesson. This structure always interested me and made me wonder how it fit into my life story.

My act one was pretty normal. Born in Franklin, Michigan, on November 16th, 2000 to a couple: Mark and Carolyn. I was their second child, following my sister Julia. When my mom made the executive decision for us to move to Miami, Florida, only three fourths of our family moved. Being that my dad’s dental practice was in Michigan, he stayed back and traveled to and from on the weekends. On December 23rd 2004, my parents finalized their divorce, prompting my father to permanently reside in Royal Oak, Michigan.

Act two was a bit more trying. My sister and I enrolled in Hillel, a Jewish community school. We easily got acquainted, joining after-school dance classes and making new friends. Every day my dad would call us, say good morning, and give us each our “Word of the Day”. Thoughtful. Island. Patient. Whatever the word was, my sister and I would be delighted to give it a few seconds and then answer with enthusiasm. With each passing year, we got less and less willing to put up with the tiresome vocabulary test every morning. So, when ‘Dad’ popped up on the screen of our phones, we were less excited and more annoyed.

It’s crazy how fast life can change. This was the third time my dad had been diagnosed with cancer. He sat me down once again and told me his situation. He had gone through it before, he was going to get through it again.

Yet, in September of 2017, as I sat in the hospital and witnessed his pain, I was no longer as confident. On one specific day, we were trying to speak to him but it took a feat of strength for him to even say hello at this point. He sat there for a few minutes as we just watched, capturing his face and trying to take mental snapshots. He turned to all of us and told us he was proud of us and that we could not have been better daughters. Finally, he turned to me and said “Go to college” and with a slight sob, I promised him that I would. After a few weeks, on October 15th 2017, I woke up to the news that he had passed. It was as if the world had stopped. He wasn't dead. He was supposed to be invincible. He was supposed to be at my graduation, my wedding, my kid’s births. There were so many things that I had suddenly realized he would be absent for, for years to come. I got many texts and calls from the people that I loved saying how sorry they were for my loss and they couldn't imagine what I was going through. And they were right, up until my dad died, I wouldn't be able to fathom a life without him, and I still don’t. It is hard for me to even believe my own situation. Yet, with everyday, it becomes more real, and a little less numb.

Finally, after going through something so hard, I've realized that my life is not like a movie. My life doesn't have three distinct parts. In reality, there is no montage. There isn't a 30 second time skip where everything works itself out. In life, we all will go through hard things, but the beauty comes from the pain. The times that shake us to our core are the defining moments and what we do with them, is what makes us great or not.

With Love,

From Lily



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