I didn’t know Gabrielle Giffords before January 8, 2011.
Why would I?
I didn’t live in Arizona and wasn’t particularly plugged into that part of American politics. Sure, I’m sure I saw her name in news stories and reports, especially after Arizona’s controversial immigration law was passed. But as with most other American congressmen and women — and even governors — her name just didn’t stick.
Then January 8 happened. I remembered following the events of that day on Twitter, especially her “death” — which was later proven to be untrue. That day was the first time in a long time I turned on CNN to follow the events in Arizona.
I don’t know why, but Giffords’ story struck a chord with me. Even before we knew anything about how she was doing.
After the first post-shooting images of her were released, I was even more struck by Giffords and her story. She looked so happy, so at peace, so OK.
Giffords’ first television interview was with Dianne Sawyer. I spent most of the hour in tears watching in amazement at the videos of this woman fighting so hard to be who she was all over again.
“She sounds like a child,” my boyfriend commented after one section where Giffords spoke.
He was right, she did. She spoke in short, usually one-word sentences. She looked confused when she was asked some questions, but I still saw so much hope and possibility from her.
Late last year, Gabby: A Story of Courage and Hope was released — a book by Giffords and her husband Mark Kelly. The book told the story of Giffords’ life before the shooting, but more of it took place in the days, weeks and months that came afterward. How she fought to build her life back — to walk, to talk — to learn everything all over again.
Of course, the real question was whether Giffords was going to run for re-election this year. Whenever it was asked, Kelly always gave the same response: The decision was Giffords’ alone to make, and she had until May to make it.
Then this weekend we got more news from Giffords. Only this time, it wasn’t about her future aspirations. This time it was about her present situation. She had decided she would be resigning her congressional seat.
In a video released on her website, wearing a red jacket almost just like the one she was shot in just over a year ago, Giffords said farewell:
“I will return,” Giffords promised, smiling in a way that you could almost see the “old” Gabby shining through.
She promised that while she was getting better, she needed to take some time to focus on her recovery. And while she didn’t expressly say she wasn’t planning to run again, the video made it pretty clear that her political career was probably done.
The New York Times reported Sunday night that Giffords would end her term in congress finishing the Congress on Your Corner event in the supermarket parking lot where she was shot one year ago.
Perhaps because of that decision, and so many others, I still see hope from Gabrielle Gifford. Sunday’s events reminded me of some of what she had written in Gabby‘s final chapter entitled “Gabby’s Voice:”
Hope and faith. You have to have hope and faith.
Everything I do reminds me of that horrible day. Just rolling onto my side is hard. Hard to sleep at night. Reminds me of how badly I was hurt. It was hard but I’m alive …
Long ways to go. Grateful to survive. It’s frustrating. Mentally hard. Hard work. I’m trying. Trying so hard to get better. Regain what I’ve lost. Want to speak better .
Trying to get back to work … I’m so sorry I’m unable to work right now.
I hope I never have to fight a battle like the one that Gabrielle Giffords is fighting, but I know I will fight smaller battles throughout my lifetime.
I hope like Giffords, no matter how tough my fight may seem or how futile it appears to be, I hope I am able to hold my head up high and carry on. I hope no matter how dark things may seem, I am able to say exactly what Giffords said:
I will get stronger. I will return.
Of that, I have no doubt.
Good luck, Gabby.
Photo for blog post a screengrab from Giffords’ video announcing her resignation.
There’s no breakup worse than the one with your best friend.
It seems no amount of time or distance can help heal the wounds caused from it. And the Internet only makes it worse — especially the Facebooks, Twitters and blogs of the universe.
Even if you’re not Facebook friends anymore, the rollout of Timeline has caused you to relive past wall posts filled with making plans. It’s also shown you pictures from long ago of the two of you laughing. Giggling for no reason. Cleaning out closets. Facials, pedicures, coffees.
You ask mutual friends and acquantiances how she is. You’re saddened when she decides not to show to friends’ parties.
You saw her once at a public party. You went to wave and smile, she turned her back on you. You were left alone.
Others understand. “I recently broke up with my best friend, too,” a friend confides. Her sad smile lets you know you’re not alone.
You hear of milestones you’re missing in her life, just as she is missing milestones in yours. This time when you move, she won’t help you pack, she won’t help you clean out your closet, she won’t help decorate.
You want to reach out to her. Try to make things right. Try to be best friends again. Do you text? Email? But something stops you from writing that email: Has too much time gone by? Does she feel the same? What if she is happy we’re not friends anymore?
I just miss my best friend.
(Photo courtesy of P.J.M. on Flickr.)
The project where I read a book a week this year. See more about my project here (and feel free to leave your book suggestions). You can read my other 52 in ’11 posts here.
Book 27: This Dark Endeavour by Kenneth Oppel
Rating: Good read
This review is going to be a little different. I did read this book, but I read as part of a freelance story I wrote for the Star.
Since it might be a conflict to review it for these purposes, I thought I’d link to my story at the Star. But I did read it, so I’m counting it toward my 52.
Feel free to disagree with me about that in the comments.
The project where I read a book a week this year. See more about my project here (and feel free to leave your book suggestions). You can read my other 52 in ’11 posts here.
Book 26: The Future of Us by Jay Asher and Carolyn Mackler
Rating: A fun read
I pre-ordered this book right after I finished Jay Asher’s smash debut, 13 Reasons Why. I knew this book would be different, mainly because this book he co-authored with another teen author, Carolyn Mackler. My understanding is Asher wrote the chapters that were written from Josh’s point of view, and Mackler wrote the ones from Emma’s point of view.
The plot is basic: It’s 1996. Josh and Emma are 16 years old and best friends. Emma gets the Internet. Only when she logs into AOL, she sees something no one else does: Facebook. Emma and Josh get a peak of their lives in the future — and a chance to change how things turn out for them.
The project where I read a book a week this year. See more about my project here (and feel free to leave your book suggestions). You can read my other 52 in ’11 posts here.
Book 24: Close Your Eyes by Amanda Eyre Ward
My rating: An interesting thriller
Close Your Eyes tells the story of Lauren, who’s father murdered her mother when she was six years old. Flashforward to the future where Lauren is grown, but still cannot shake her past. He brother, Alex, goes missing while working for Doctors Without Borders, and suddenly Lauren is thrown into a world of determining whether her father is rightfully in prison for the murder of her mother.
