I just lost one of my favorite people, Sarah Hammond. Others have written about her death already, including:
- Provost of Wm. and Mary - http://www.wm.edu/news/announcements/2011/message-regarding-sarah-hammond.php
- Sarah Brubaker - http://www.religiondispatches.org/dispatches/sarahmoricebrubaker/5451/in_memoriam%3A_sarah_hammond/
- Linn Tonstad - http://usreligion.blogspot.com/2011/11/sarah-ruth-hammond-1977-2011.html
- Mark Oppenheimer - http://markoppenheimer.com/front-page/i-miss-you-sarah-hammond.html
Sarah and I grew up just 20 minutes apart without knowing each other. We met as undergrads at Yale, and for a while she was just an acquaintance. What turned her into a dear friend was spending 9 hours in a car together driving from Yale home to Ohio. She forgot to tell me she didn't know how to drive... so I was expecting her share the stress of driving. I wasn't quite pleasantly surprised when we got in the car and she gingerly asked, "Oh, did I tell you I don't know how to drive?" But we bonded hard on that trip anyways and have been good friends ever since.
I described Sarah the other day as smart, funny, and kind. Thinking more about her, I'd add that she was also gentle, sweet, and very spirited. She and I shared a love of the absurdity we see in society, and particularly from the political/religious right. When she'd send out mass emails or post to Facebook, it would often be to share her delight at some new absurdity.
At one time, her favorite absurdity was the bizarre game of Bladderball, a mid-20th-century Yale tradition involving lots of alcohol, a big crowd of students, and a huge inflatable ball. I get the idea it was like a tug of war, but the war was for your group to control where the ball went. The tradition ended abruptly in grand "It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye" fashion. I don't know what the injury/injuries were that shut it down... but Sarah probably did. Wikipedia cites "Yale bladderball historian Sarah Hammond" as a source for their article.
I pay attention to the Political/Religious Right, aka the Religious Wrong, aka the Christianists. I'm talking about Focus on the Family, Exodus, WorldNetDaily, and all their ilk. When I talked to Sarah, there was a lot I didn't have to spell out. I could mention a name and she'd know who it was, because she knew all the players as well as I did. (She also got the religious side of things much better than I did!) We saw the same absurdity and hypocrisy, and we enjoyed the combined amusement and revulsion we both felt.
There's one other way we really connected, and it was more recent. Like Sarah, I left a job hurting very badly. Mostly it wasn't my fault, though of course I blamed myself more than I deserved. I shouldn't have felt awful about myself over it, but I did. Then I felt bad for being out of work, for not bouncing back fast enough emotionally or functionally, and for being financially dependent on someone else. I was impatient with myself, perfectionistic, and ashamed. Sarah went through all the same things when she left her teaching position in Germany and struggled to regain her balance.
We both prefer for people not to see us at our worst, and only to look at us when we can show them something good. So I imagine she wasn't running around pouring her heart out about this to everyone she knows. When we talked on the phone, I could tell she was hurting in ways I recognized. So I talked about how I'd felt, and then she'd acknowledge feeling the same way. I came to feel very protective of her because I could identify so closely with what she was going through. And I was really happy for her when she seemed to be getting back in the swing of things with her new post at William and Mary.
I'm just confounded that Sarah - vibrant, talented, spirited, lovable Sarah - could reach the end of her life so early. Since my rough spot a few years ago, my life has gone in directions I never predicted. And I'm pretty happy with how it's come together. But I could never have seen that the things I was doing would eventually all lead me to this. I don't think Sarah had reached this point yet with her own struggles and unpredictable path. I wish she'd had the time to see where it would lead.
I've caught myself fantasizing that things could have happened differently, and she'd still be here. What if I'd been there for her at a key moment and in a position to help? What if, what if, what if. I know that's a bullshit line of thinking. But at the same time, it's hard to accept that a tragedy like this happened and was so much beyond my control. Among other things, that means another tragedy could come along. At least if I thought I could have prevented it, I might feel some security that I wouldn't make the same mistake twice... and wouldn't ever experience such a painful mindfuck of a loss again.
I hope she's found peace.
I love her dearly.
