Weddings, Babies, Breakups.

Dear me, I've missed so much.

It occurred to me in the last five minutes as I was reading through an old friend's blog who was recently through a collapsed lung and now a breakup, I have been so out of the loop.

Not to mention, I was WEEKS (months, maybe?) behind when some of my friends announced pregnancies and engagements. Some of my very best blog friends have a bundle on the way, and I have been lost somewhere in the abyss of my life and have been too busy to keep up.

The entire reason I like to blog is the sense of community that exists. But that community is compromised when half of the relationship is missing. I haven't been reading, BARELY been writing, and my ability to even respond to the comments and the emails was just so overwhelming for the past few months.

Every single one makes my day though. And I have been failing at letting those who care about ME, know that I care about THEM.

I have 19 days of school left.  In that time I have to pack my apartment, pack up my classroom, work on securing another job, and a place to live in a new area 7 hours away. But even though there is much on the agenda, I am heading home to be with my family for the last few months before I head south. I'm hoping to get back into reading, writing, connecting. And as I venture into a new area, I am looking forward to finding people in that area to befriend, and hopefully make the transition a little bit easier.


Spending the last few hours at school, then heading out ASAP to drive the 2 hours home for the wedding weekend. Wish me luck as I face severe wedding/marital anxiety. I'm allowed to leave the reception for a breather, right? And I can completely ignore that horrible moment where single people are forced to attack a bouquet for a chance at a happily ever after, right?

Happy Thursday, ladies.

Today, I'm feeling lucky.

Maybe not lucky. I'm not a huge fan of the word. I'm feeling fortunate.

The past few weeks have indeed been difficult, and only my gratitude for my mother's life and her speedy recovery have kept me trucking along.

Otherwise, it was a bit of a mess.

I didn't write on May 20th. I'm sure you can guess why. I was going to, because I could feel a tangible pain in my chest for a better part of the day.

But my man, my very own Clark Kent, was amazing. He knew exactly why I was feeling low, and was perfect in every way. He sent me several emails that day, one in which he referenced a field of daisies. I told him I was sorry I had been so difficult, and that I would move mountains to be better for him.

His response?

"So, it got me thinking about every day we're going to have together. You said you'd move mountains, and I'm sure on the other side of that mountain would be a huge, open field of daisies. Imagine that, a huge open field, surrounded by large mountains in the distance and blue skies above. The sun beating down on this open field of yellow and white flowers, everywhere. Just the feeling of lying back with you resting against me and millions of petals all around us. Can you imagine?"

That afternoon, I came home to find that these had been delivered....

Of course, he followed the daisies a day later, arriving in Syracuse last night. We spent the evening eating guac and then headed to the movies to see The Great Gatsby. I was falling asleep by the time the show ended at midnight, and then I spent the rest of the night safely and securely nestled in that amazing man's arms.

I left for work this morning, he headed home to start pre-wedding festivities with his sister and future bro-in-law. We will meet tomorrow night when I head home for the rehearsal dinner.

I am not dreading the wedding like I was before. It's an opportunity to dress up, eat and drink and dance. We've never done this before, so I'm looking forward to our first slow dance together....

Long story short, today I'm feeling fortunate. My mom is my rock, my boyfriend rocks, and this weekend I am sure will rock my world.

Love to you all, wherever you are.

Happy Wednesday, ladies. 

These days, it seems like...

we are always praying for those who have suffered a major tragedy in our nation, and across the world.

Today, my thoughts and prayers are with those in Oklahoma.

We know we belong to the land

 And the land we belong to is grand!
And when we say
Yeeow! Aye-yip-aye-yo-ee-ay!
We're only sayin'
You're doin' fine, Oklahoma!
Oklahoma O.K.

The Plot Thickens

I think the last few weeks have taken a toll.

I am beyond grateful to have my mother home and happy. And today when I was feeling especially low, I reached for the phone and was brought to tears when I heard her voice on the other end of the line.

What would I do if I couldn't pick up the phone and reach that voice of love, support, and reassurance?

So before I launch into the week of woes, please bear in mind that I know how lucky I am and I count my blessings daily.

With that being said...

It's been a low week.

I hate May. I hate May because I am reminded of anniversaries. May 20th was my wedding anniversary, and May 25th was our original anniversary of dating.

And don't ask me why I have been thinking about it. Because honestly, I don't know.

I hate him. With every tiny fiber of my being. For what he did, for who he is, and for how cowardly he was to walk away without breathing a word to any of my family members who loved him dearly.

I hate him for lying. I hate him for cheating. I hate him for promising me the money I needed to finish my Masters and take care of our dogs and then failed to keep his part of the deal.

I hate him for the man he thinks he is right now - the worthy "leader". When in fact, he is nothing but a toxic and arrogant prick. And a man who cheats once will surely cheat again. So wifey, watch your back.

I hate him.

And then I do my routine emotional "cutting" and I rip open the wounds that can be found all across my heart and I find a picture of when we were happy. Of the man I remember sharing a life and a bed. And it all hurts all over gain.

And I am mad at his family. And I try not to be because I know it's not their fault. But for months they knew what was going on. That he was with someone else. And no one ever bothered to reach out to me and help ease the wondering and the suffering. And so I had to find out through his mother's page on Facebook. Talk about a blow.

And so I'm still angry every once in awhile when the dogs are hard to please and I'm packing up belongings that remain from a life that no longer includes me.

I'm experiencing an angst that comes with changing a lifestyle. I am moving. AGAIN. Packing boxes and plates and books and pictures and things that are just difficult to deal with. I have two interviews for schools around DC/Northern VA and one is for a suburban school. A bird of a different feather. But that's another post for another day.

I have a man with whom I adore sharing time. He's good to me, and when we are together there are always fireworks. But I have learned my lesson and I know that slowing down and feeling it out is obviously the right way to go.

And finally, the insult to add to injury?  His younger sister is getting married a few days after my anniversary. And right now I HATE WEDDINGS. Loathe and despise them. I'm happy for those who recently got married or are going through the process, but actually SITTING through one is more than I can take. And I will be his "plus one" at the wedding in a week, and my stomach does serious flips at the thought.

My biggest fear? Being caught on the dance floor when our old song plays. It is an inevitable wedding song. And I wonder if I will be able to hold my composure, fight the tears, and let the song wash off my back as I lean on my mediocre acting skills.

I'm just a ball of emotion this week. Moving. Interviewing. Dealing with ghosts. Understanding my Mom's accident and moving forward as she recovers. Navigating this new (albeit incredible) relationship. And somewhere in there, trying to figure out where exactly I am going to go after this and what my life will really look like.

This post wasn't supposed to be a hateful one, that wasn't my intention. And every post that ends up referencing Toe usually gets saved as a draft and never published. Or I write, and it gets deleted entirely. I get furious with myself for even throwing a thought his way after almost three years, but it's the nature of the beast and tonight I just couldn't help it.

Time for bed.

Happy (almost) Wednesday, ladies.

My Mother is My Hero

Thank you, again, for your thoughts and words.
The comments and emails I recieved on the last post were exactly evidence of what I wrote - you keep me lifted, you keep me strong, and you keep me writing.

Sometimes I take those "sabbaticals" (good call, Steph) and I slip into a place where writing is difficult and I cannot even force myself to stroke the keys, no matter how long I sit and stare at the blank screen and blinking cursor.

For now I will continue to pen publicly, even though I am far from signing my name here openly.

The thing is, I'm proud of my story. It had its moments, and I look back at some of the posts and can't believe I ever felt that alone and that defeated. My mother's accident has reminded me (and the entire family) how precious the every day is. How turbulent and rocky the road may be, it has beautiful scenery if you just pause for a brief second to look.

So my mother...

The fall was severe. To say the very least. And yes, the doctor did tell us she is a medical miracle to be alive and breathing. She is in her halo vest, and as of right now she is suspected to make a *full* recovery.

She spent a week in the Orthopedic department, and though she made small steps of progress, last Friday I was still cutting her food and feeding her. She broke her right clavicle as well, so her arm is in a sling and she doesn't have proper use of her right hand. Fortunately, she is left handed, as I am, and she has been able to adjust more easily due to her dexterity on her left side.

Originally, we were told that she would most likely not gain proper mobility and independence to be released to go home for the entire 10 weeks she is in the halo.

As of last Friday, they moved her to the Rehabilitation Unit for a projected 4 weeks to work 3 hours a day with PT and OT.

But because my Mom is my hero, and her perseverance, strength, and determination shine through even in the darkest moments - she is being RELEASED TO GO HOME TOMORROW.

Yup. My Mother is my hero.

They call her "sunshine", "giggles" and various other names. They adore her. All of her nurses (dozens of them) stop to tell me in the hallway how they have never seen someone of that age and in that grave a situation be so optimistic and conquer the adversity quite like she has. My God, I am proud of her.

My mom has been cloaked in darkness for awhile. Her life has not been easy either, and for awhile she stopped believing in her strength and resilience. This accident has turned her around, and she is more excited about life and possibility than I ever thought she could be. She is inspiring me to be grateful and to acknowledge the blessings I have in my family and my friends. So often we take things for granted, and when there are moments now that I think my Mom might not be here - well, everything else seems so incredibly insignificant.

So tomorrow I will spend helping my mom get home and settled, and on Saturday morning we will enjoy coffee together as we stare out at the horses in the pasture.

Thank you - all of you - for giving me the support and the reminder that writing is what helps me, what eases the troubles, and what keeps me trucking on forward.

Happy Thursday, loves.