I do know that I finished each section in time, and that I did not perform as well as I wanted on one essay exam. And, that I recorded the wrong timing for the PT's, thinking that I had little time remaining, and rushed through, only to discover that I did have a little more time...I went back and filled in the missing blanks, corrected the numerous typo's and spelling errors. I won't make that mistake again (and, I hope that I am not presented with a new opportunity!)
Somehow, I seemed to know more, understand more, be more comfortable in "my own skin," as it were. But, by the end of each day, I collapsed.
Upon reflection, I wonder how I even "bellied up to the bar" given my life circumstances:
In March 2011, I flew home to take care of my mother who returned home from the hospital after passing out on her kitchen floor. I worked 24/7. I cleaned house, cooked, ran errands, scheduled doctor's appointments, coordinated with the insurance company, and hired two private care-takers. And, upon returning to California, I continued to coordinate from afar.
A friend of mothers returned home early, from Arizona, to care for Mom. We had a pact; after taking the bar exam, I would take over and care for Mom until she died. But, my mother died 8 days after her friend came home...All things in order, my Mom was ready to die and looking forward to her life "in the after-world." I, however, was not ready to accept her death.
I was living with a political activist friend in California. I discovered that her activism (and her generosity) was at the expense (and generosity) of others; and, after breaking my car window, turning on the heat on hot summer days, disconnecting the microwave, and shutting off the Internet, that she had turned her activism on me. My cat and I beat a hasty retreat and decided, if necessary, that we would live in my Civic, if push came to shove, and shower at the Y. (I was amused when I did an MBE about a law school tenant who was similarly harassed by his landlord!)
When one door closes, another opens...a friend from law school that both my mother and I had assisted a few years ago came to my rescue. My cat, Sherlock (named for his investigative mind), and I are now living in the East Bay in a funky, multi-story house, which is clean, bright, and modest. While I suffered from near pneumonia for two weeks, my roommate made chicken soup and tea and helped nurse me back to health. She did it again when I succumbed to a tooth infection. Lacking health insurance, I've learned how to give in to my body and nurse it back to health.
And, when I was nearly financially destitute, a firm retained me for legal research, recognizing my skills, and affording me monetary relief just when I needed it the most.
Always one to provide assistance to others, I have had to learn to ask for help. Two more friends came to my rescue, cat sitting, providing food, listening, and, in fact, simply holding me when I broke down in a flood of tears after calling my mother's friends to let them know that she had died.
Last Christmas, my mother gave me her favorite turquoise and silver ring. I took this ring with me to the bar exam; it sat on the table in front of me. And, every time that I faltered, I looked at the ring and touched it. "Mom, give me courage to make it through. Mom, give me energy...give me stamina. I am so tired."
So, in the scheme of things, I studied hard, in between working, moving, life and death, and I forged through. In the scheme of things, the bar exam didn't seem quite so daunting as my life. It is simply something that I hope that I mastered, or hope that I will master, because my niche is in the law. And, I want, more than anything, to be a lawyer. And, when I do, I won't forget what it's like to be in riches, and to be in rags. And, I won't forget my friends.
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