anticipation.....

I am going on the trip of a lifetime in a few days: a medical mission to Peru. I will be the only pediatrician there. I am delighted beyond words and scared to death. I have anticipated this trip for years...have actually scheduled it and had to cancel, and now it looks like it is finally going to happen. I am almost afraid to believe it.

So, typical me, I have not packed. I have obtained a lot of stuff to pack, but the actual packing is still to be done. I hope that I have arranged for all the child/pet care, but I still need to make extra house keys and write everything down. I have gotten the necessary prescriptions, but have not filled them yet. I am on the edge, and almost...almost ready to take the plunge.

I somehow feel that this is going to be one of the most important things I do in my life. We are anticipating seeing 700-1000 patients in 3 days. That in and of itself will be miraculous. I just pray that we are able to give back at least half of what we receive. From my one and only other mission trip I know that I will be humbled and blessed beyond belief.

Happy birthday to you...
Happy birthday to you...
Happy birthday dear Daddy,
Happy birthday to you...

I love you and miss you more every year...

love tree...

I've never had my initials carved into a tree. I guess that is a good thing for the trees, but a little sad somehow for me. I never knew that I was missing that until today, when I saw not one, but two beautiful old "love trees". And I wondered if any of those initials were still linked...

What happened to the sweet old traditions like carving initials and hearts into trees? I guess it started changing when people started carving into furniture and walls, then writing on them with pens. Now we have graffiti, gang symbols and tatoos. What a horrible and sorry statement.

Maybe I'm just bitter, but I am glad that no one has ever tatooed my name anywhere. And I trust it isn't emblazoned on a wall somewhere. But sweetly carved into a love tree? That would have been nice.

finally fall...

Got a new air conditioner today. More accurately, a new heat pump and furnace for the upstairs of my house. My old one was 20+ years old and dying a very expensive death, so it was time for a new one. I have not been happy about the situation. Bad financial timing, as if there is ever a "good" time to drop 6k on an air conditioner. Not to mention that the 20 year old oven died a couple of weeks ago, and the new one will be installed next week--a mere 1600 dollar adventure. All the while I steadily watch my assets disappear into nothingness, as do millions of other Americans. Still, as I sat on my porch today and piddled in my yard, which John so lovingly had helped me spruce up by trimming and pruning, I realized that I love my house. This old place has become my home--filthy carpets, leaky roof, deteriorating appliances and all. And slowly but surely I am bringing it to life and loving it into being a happy house for me and my kids. Overwhelming at times, but hey, what else have I got to do? For now I am going to just enjoy the cool mornings and evenings on my porch with a latte, and with my beloved pets (my kids are never around unless they need money, teenagers you know). And I am going to try to soak up and enjoy my life for what it is, not what I thought it would or should be.

peace

I love the way they just nap--not a care in the world. They know that they are loved and cared for...a regular routine, a nice house and family, lots of attention, rarely a cross word. All in all, a pretty good life. Like perpetual toddlers, really.

Will life ever be simple again?

Diving in...

I have played with the idea of posting again, and dismissed it repeatedly. Partially because I haven't felt like I had time; mainly because I have felt my life to be so completely out of control that I was afraid to try to label even a moment of it for fear that somehow that moment would be jinxed. Not that it has been all bad--let's just say that I am growing, and growth at my age can be very, very painful.

Pieces of me that I thought were dead and buried were actually only dormant, and with some attention were ready to sprout hopefully toward the sun--only to be crushed yet again. My babies were wounded while I helplessly stood by in total ignorance. Loved ones were actually people I realized I never even knew. Lifeboats sprung leaks. All in all, it has been painful--like the slow ache of a chronic disease--most days tolerable, some days damn near unbearable. I can't decide if the world is in slow motion and I am spinning out of control, or if I am slowly oozing away and the world is whizzing by me. All I know is that I am disconnected.

Yet, there have been moments of peace; of beauty and happiness and rest. Nothing sustained and nothing that felt solid, but glimpses: rememberences of the illusions I called security, love, self-assurance, safety. Illusions, yes, but they felt real at the time. And so I stumble through the days trying to catch a glimpse of peace; to hold onto for just a fleeting moment--or day--or week--that feeling of well-being. Realizing that I have to find it within myself; and looking within, seeing emptiness.

So, I have filled my hours with busy-ness, and with solitude. I have taken wonderful trips, made some great memories with my friends and kids, given selflessly to any and every cause I thought needed me. I have given myself gifts, taken up a new and long desired hobby, found a new exercise routine. And I wait. Hoping, every day, for an epiphany of just what it all means. And what my role in it is supposed to be.