I don’t know about you, but I am (and have always been since I can remember) the epitome of a Type A personality. At about the age of 6 or 7, I remember picking out my outfit the night before school and laying my clothes neatly on the chair next to my bed. My lunch was always prepped and waiting for me the next morning in the fridge as well.  There was something very comforting to me in the planning and organizing of just about everything.

This continued throughout my high school and college years as well, never missing a class or a meeting, either on campus or off. Lists, and lists of my lists, were on hand 24/7. Believe it or not, even after entering the “real world” after graduate school, I received an award at my 10 year high school reunion for…yes, first to rsvp for the reunion!

I know my kids will read this and think, “wow, my mom was such a nerd!” I felt that following the rules somehow gave me a sense of control. After all, when you’re an only child in a car accident with your mother at the age of 14, she doesn’t survive, and you try to understand what has happened, the only thing you want is control.

But control of your own life no longer feels like a possibility.

The summer after my mom passed, I’d had a 6 week trip to Israel planned with the youth group from my synagogue. I was hesitant to go, but knew that it was important for me to be with lifelong friends and adults I trusted. The journey proved transformative for me. It wasn’t a religious experience, but a spiritual one.  The 6 weeks of travel and learning provided me with the knowledge and awareness that there was something at work in the world larger than myself. There were lessons that I needed to learn and a path in front of me that was mine and mine alone. The control for which I was looking was no longer attainable…and that was ok.

I do feel that my life was tragically altered by loss. More importantly, though, is how I have used my experience to build and shape me since. My mom left me with all of the resources I needed to live my life and excel. Of course I still miss her everyday, that goes without saying.  But I, on some level, chose faith (in myself) over fear.  The Stoic philosopher Epictetus once said “it’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.”