Life is an unstoppable force; we are powerless to circumvent the random happenings of the universe. As humans, this is a hard concept to accept. We have evolved to harness the powers of the natural world and exploit them. Is there anything that we cannot do? I was guilty of feeling invincible. Routine compelled me to believe so. On a night just the same as all the rest, I was on my way to work, cruising down Pacific Coast Highway, enthralled by the conversation I was having via Bluetooth with my nephew. In my periphery came a flash of light that I could not discern. Moments later another car collided with mine, the impact first crushing the passenger door and as the car slid across the intersection, it smashed the front end of my Fiesta as well, peeling the hood up like a ripe banana. My vehicle landed in the center lane amidst oncoming traffic and the opposing vehicle made it to the gas station parking lot. I sat in my steaming car, the call with my nephew dropped and the airbag deployed into my chest. I started to get out, realizing it was not safe where I was permanently parked and heard a series of gunshots. The police arrived and were now shooting at the man that hit me. The perpetrator had gotten out of his car and was evading the cops on foot. The man that hit me had robbed a Food 4 Less in Signal Hill. My car was completely wrecked and impounded due to the investigation that would be ongoing for weeks to come. I went to the city impound later that week to obtain the rest of my things as I would not be able to afford to get the car out and repair the damage. I remarked about how devastated I was about this circumstance repeatedly to the attendant as we sailed around the compound to look for my car in a sea of wreckage. It was then I felt the fragility of the human experience. There were cars so smashed there was no exit point, all the openings were crushed in like a flimsy tin can. Cars so gnarled and thrashed they looked like complete monstrosities with serrated metal jutting out like shark teeth. The attendant told me I was lucky to be alive. In the aftermath of my car’s death, I was introduced to several new concepts that changed the trajectory of my life and helped my mental health in ways I never thought possible. In the face of adversity, my friends will rally around me and sometimes life’s chaos can be a catalyst for change. One friend drove down from San Francisco with a car that he was not using and gave it to me. My impound and towing fees were handled by another friend. Finally, I received a $500 donation from a colleague that I worked with at the hospital. I worked at the hospital for a few months beyond the accident before the lingering anxiety from driving nightly drove me away. The departure was a happy one as I returned to academia and began to fully actualize my life as a degreed professional with a career. In 2024 I will have my AA for transfer. Furthermore, I am closer to a BA than previously conceived. I would not have had the opportunity to achieve this if I was still working 40 hours a week overnight. The best advice I could give someone facing similar circumstances is to have a good support system and make your situation work for you.

I am the daughter of two emotionally immature parents. I have never considered myself to be lucky but as an adult, I feel lucky that at least one of my parents realized their emotional ineptitude and worked to rectify this. My mental health especially suffered at the beginning of the pandemic. The relationship I had with both parents was strained and as I was working overnight in an emergency department, I had extraordinarily little interaction with friends. My life was off balance and my interactions with my parents became extremely taxing. My mother's entitlement has pushed family and friends alike far away. It came as no surprise when she began to do the same to me. Boundaries were often crossed and when I asked her to respect them, she would refuse to take any accountability. I kept my true feelings inside fearful that we could never have an honest dialogue. My mother's inability to take any accountability for the damage she caused in my childhood created a huge rift in our relationship. I became despondent and further isolated myself from the outside world. Not being able to have any real conversations about the constant miscommunication made it difficult for me to focus on my studies. I longed for my mother to bridge this gap without victimizing herself and making everything about her. I remember just before the Thanksgiving holiday in 2022, in my yoga class at LBCC, the instructor went around the room asking us what or who we were thankful for. Most people mentioned their mothers, and their families--I deeply wished that I could relate. I found peace in writing as it forced my thoughts onto paper. I began to work through some of the trauma. My father showed up for me with so much love and understanding during this time, casting his pride aside and pulling me out of the darkness. We started to have in-depth conversations about my thoughts and feelings and although he was in Georgia, and I remained in California we became closer than ever. I learned to become more self-sufficient. I know that I am not able to have a healthy relationship with my mother, but I take great comfort in knowing that I can do anything on my own. My relationship with my father, which has always been good, is even better now. I have been living alone for six years and I enjoy my solitude more than anything else. I am alone; however, I am not lonely. I have also started going to therapy and engaging with self-reflective content online. Had I not experienced this pain, I would have had no inkling of how to navigate the complexity of familial relationships. I now believe if someone in your family is toxic and you are unable to have a conversation with them about the ways they are causing you harm, it is okay to walk away.

The Giving Tree was a book read to me as a little girl, that has stuck with me my entire life. Parents who are looking for a book that introduces complex concepts to children seamlessly will find that The Giving Tree delivers upon every read. My father often read to me as a child. Reading was not just something that happened before bed. I was read to all the time, and I loved it. My father even bought an oversized leather chair that sat us both for such occasions. The pair of us would cozy up with our favorite Afghan and become immersed in the alternate reality that is literature. The Giving Tree was not a book that I discovered during our many visits to the bookstore, though I remember admiring its verdant cover the first time my father brought it home. As a child, I was enthralled by its demonstration of give and take so effortlessly expressed through clever verse and illustration. The metaphor had many real-world implications and I resonated with the message even as a young girl. Children can be demanding and lack empathy but gently reminding them about the fragility of "the human experience" circumvents that. The Giving Tree's message for children about their relationships with family and friends was so centering to me. Societal connections require reciprocity and I have never read another book that has been able to effectively illustrate this. I think everyone in the world, not just children, should read The Giving Tree!