birthday

The last day of March marked the day of Mitchell's birth. He would have been 43. The day came and went as most others. It is remarkable to me that it was so ordinary.

distance

I'm feeling much less raw after putting a little distance between myself and that terrible appointment with Dr. Brown last week.  The reality of events to come has not changed, but I am feeling better able to manage my emotions.  Admittedly, I have moments when it  overwhelms me.  Driving alone is probably the worst time for this.  Memories of that appointment are like a magnet for my mind; it keeps reverting back to those words.  But it also reminds me that none of us are promised any length of time on this planet, and we need to embrace each moment as it happens. 

We are good right now.  And that is good enough right now.

new directions

I recently accepted an ELL teaching position at the local elementary.  This may seem like a 180 to some as the last time I was in charge of a classroom, I was fried to say the least.  But it's been awhile since I taught last, four years to be exact, and this particular situation is quite different from where I was. 

Truth is, I'm excited to participate in the adult world again.  It will be nice to meet adults who don't know my kids and aren't trying to plan a play date or sleepover or trip to the movies. 

And like I said, this situation is different.  I'll  be working mornings with a student load of under 20.  There's a good mix of instruction and paper work (you're thinking, "Why does she like paperwork?"  I don't know.  I find it soothing.)  There's tremendous opportunity for me to learn and grow, which is exciting.  And necessary to prevent my brain from becoming middle-aged mush.

Will I miss being at home with the Hay?  Of course.  Will it take a bit to adjust to the demands of the new schedule?    Definitely.  But I also realize that this is a necessary step in a new direction that enables me to have more control over my family's destiny.  I have decided to rise to the occasion.

things known

We now know that Mitchell has more than likely had cancer for at least the last 3 years. We know that he most definitely has Stage 3 Colorectal Cancer and possibly HNPCC, a hereditary syndrome. We know that he will begin adjuvant chemotherapy in the next 2 to 3 weeks, and his treatment will last for at least 6 months. We know that the tumor perforated his bowel which caused cancerous cells to spill into his abdomen, leading to a microscopic spread of the cancer. We know that his cancer is treatable, and that the next 2 years will be crucial to his survival.

the novelty factor

Remember when you first met your person? You could talk on the phone for hours without running out of intriguing conversation... Just thinking about him/her caused your pulse to accelerate... Can you recall those fluttery feelings? All the anticipation? Those sparks you seemed to generate whenever you were in close vicinity? Okay. This is a little gross now, but can you recall all those times you spent making out in the car in front of restaurants, homes, movie theaters.... Those were good times.

Fast-forward to ten years and two kids later... What's that song about the "thrill" being gone? It's definitely gone. Those fluttery feelings have been replaced by intense irritation at the way he taps his fork on his plate while he's eating dinner. Or the desire to hit her in the head with a pot when she loads the dishwasher incorrectly for the millioneth time (that is if she ever loads it at all). The disagreements about who isn't rinsing out the sink after brushing their teeth. Nevemind that the one complaining the most adamantly has never cleaned any part of the bathroom to begin with, so why the fuss? Eventually you become two disgruntled beings, stomping/tiptoeing around a domecile, making curt responses to queries about kids and household needs. Intimacy, unfortunately, becomes a chore. A task needing to be checked off a to do list.

To remedy this symptom of an ailing marriage, the Date Night is prescribed. Baby sitters are obtained. Reservations made. Movies attended. And the result is...fine. Which is okay. But what happened to those sparks? Introduce the Novelty Factor.

Being a semi-frequent participant in marital Date Nights (although they have become fewer and farther between since moving to Tucson), I found this article to be interesting, especially considering it supports my feelings about newness and the complacency of the familiar.