Greetings from Canadia . . .

I’m trying to do this November daily blogging thing . . . but the Beckster is feeling neglected, so I’m trying to figure out a way to do this and yet still have quality time . . .

Thought for the day: I’m realizing that, although I may have a preference for a certain city, or a reason to dislike another town or city, the truth of it is that “home” has way more to do with the people around me than with the physical location . . .

Even as hard as it is to have friends–and therefore pieces of my heart–in different places, I realize that I am beyond blessed because I have so many people that I consider “home”.

 

(yeah, these one-a-day posts might not be the highest quality . . . but I keep telling myself that it’s a discipline, and that practice makes, if not perfect, at least . . . hmmm. Practice makes blog stats!? yeah. that’s it.)

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how quickly things turn upside-down . . .

(this is one of three blog posts about the situation that my dear friend has been going through–I have two others that have been in process for quite a while, and maybe this nablopomo stuff will encourage me to finally finish those too.)

It’s hard to believe that things can be change so quickly . . .

It was barely six months ago that we were looking ahead to a time when she was going to be free of the school/internship/work cycle . . . “imagine”, we would say. “You’ll have so much extra time that you won’t know what to do with yourself”, I often told her. This promise of relative freedom was something I pointed her towards to encourage her on particularly rough days. I always admired her in that she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what she wanted to do with her life; she had worked so, so hard for eight years, and now, a new stage of her life was about to begin. And she is good at what she does . . . intuitively good, in a way that can’t come from a classroom. She had–no, she HAS–her whole life ahead of her.

We talked about living arrangements. Wouldn’t it be nice, we speculated, if we shared an apartment, one that had an extra room for our mutual godbaby, as well as any of the other random kids who were around at different times. Sure, maybe it felt a tiny bit weird in a “playing house” kind of way, but it made total sense from a practical standpoint. I could keep him overnight anytime if I knew that I would have someone who could cover for me if I needed to run to the store for an hour . . . it would be fun, but more importantly, it would allow us to be on the same page in terms of his medical needs; it would allow us to be consistent.  And, although I would be there with my cluttery self, she would finally have a space to call her own, a place to live where she could spread out beyond one room.

There was just so much to look forward to . . . there was just so much energy behind my encouragements to her that things were going to get better. But I don’t think any of us could have seen what was to come next . . . I know that none of us could have imagined that one attack would turn into a “once-a-month” occurrence, or that there would be a flurry of useless court dates and unproductive ER visits and constant fear. I am certain that six months ago, nobody could see things ending this way, with her fleeing for her life.

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. And I’m waiting for things to turn right-side-up again . . . but realizing that, in so many ways, things will never be the same again.

misnomer

“Glad to see you made it back in one piece”, they say.

Apparently they are missing the fact that my heart is broken . . . or that a piece of me is over a thousand miles away. So although it is that I have returned safely, please don’t say that I am back “in one piece”.

(going to try Nablopomo again; however, the entries will probably be short if they’re going to happen daily . . . )

I give up . . .

there is just no way I’m going to blog every day this month.

I used to work with a guy who would always say, “don’t talk about how tired you are, because it will just make you more tired, and will make everybody else around you tired.”

but the fact is, I REALLY AM TIRED. overwhelmed. burned out.

can’t even blog. now THAT is just sad.