Torn...

In about 3 months I am scheduled to be in Peru, going up the Amazon to jungle villages to deliver healthcare to the people there. I have wanted to go on this trip for months...until now. My son's prom is during that time, and while it seems petty to give up the chance to help others for a child's prom for God's sake, I just don't feel right about missing it. I will also be missing his spring concert. I already missed his fall talent show to go to Peru on a mission trip. How could the timing of this trip suck so completely? Mother guilt. It isn't like I couldn't go on another trip--mission trips are easy to come by if you are willing to pay to go...I had wanted to go on this trip primarily to travel and work with this particular group of people again...but now that seems like a small and insignificant reason to disappoint my son. And it would--he specifically asked me not to go--not to miss his prom. And to be truthful, I just don't feel like I have it in me to go this time. So I feel like a selfish bitch. Still, another pediatrician is going on this trip, so it is not like I would be leaving them high and dry--I just wouldn't be traveling with my old group. But, I somehow sense that the dynamics of the group would not be the same now anyway--hell, only 2 of us even sent Christmas Cards to each other...its not like we have a lifelong attachment.
Guilt. My lifelong companion. It sucks.

spring?

One little violet...not even purple or lavender,just delicate white...peeking up through the discarded hay in the pasture. Spring. It's coming! I am so very ready that find I myself searching for any little sign and rejoicing in it..especially tiny, anemic violets struggling their way toward the light of the sun...

I am so ready for spring. February always saps me in ways I don't understand...drains me of my energy from the very deepest depths of my being. I feel fat, lethargic, pale and pasty. Worse, I feel worthless and empty. This year I have added the desperate desire to sleep--hours and hours on end, interrupted by my thoughts that the only way to ever really get my house in order would be to simply move out of it and leave it all behind. I guess I am in a funk. Couple this February angst with the inevitable realization of just how quickly time is flying by--how just last spring it seems I was taking toddlers to ride horses and practice T-ball and now I am handing them condoms and praying to God that they use them. Sigh. I watch myself disappear in importance from my children's lives and wonder if it is supposed to feel this way. It is wearying, this aging thing. I really don't know that I have the strength for it.

disappointment...

This was a weekend that I had looked forward to for days, and it didn't turn out to be anything even remotely pleasant. In short, I was disappointed by people I love and trust...not just because they "didn't acknowledge me on Valentine's Day"...they seldom acknowledge me on any day, much less that one, but because they simply were inherently rude and inconsiderate of me and my time. I was treated as if I was an unimportant constant here for the using.
Doormats are doormats because they allow it. I guess it is time for me to stop being so available and accomodating. Clearly, its not working for me.

condor...

When we were in Machu Pichu one of the others remarked that he wanted to see a condor...I almost lost it. The only person I had ever heard say that was Miss Jane Hathaway on the Beverly Hillbillies. Evidently, the condor is not extinct, but is extremely rare. Seeing one in the Andes is supposed to be incredibly lucky, spiritual, mystical, etc. During our 4 or so hours there, we saw two, flying together. Our guide said that in his 20 years as a guide he had only seen 4 total, counting these 2. Our trip leader had only seen 2 in 17 years. This was a big deal. And I was left wondering: what does this mean? I really believe that such things happen for some reason--to give some message--but evidently the message is not for me. It is like the universe speaks in tongues that I can't understand. Four months later I am still wondering what, if any, significance those birds had. They circled over our heads for a good 10 minutes before disappearing into the clouds, making damn sure that we all knew they were present and with us.
And once again, their message was not for me.

me...

Not exactly how I planned it to be at this age, but I'm liking it just fine.