In 24 hours, I will be sitting in the airport, impatiently waiting for the flight attendants to let me board my flight to Houston.
In 25 hours, I will be in the air over South Texas.
In 26 hours, I will be in Houston, grabbing a quick dinner from Panda Express before boarding my flight to California.
In 27 hours, I will be on the plane, in line on the runway, waiting to take off for California.
In 28 hours, I will be engrossed in my new book Columbine by Dave Cullen, or at least pretending to be engrossed so that time will pass quicker.
In 29 hours, I will give up on reading my book and just start twitching in my seat, biting down my fingernails to the nubs.
In 30 hours, I will be landing in California. I will be body-checking people who take too long in the aisle. I will be rushing to the pick-up curb so that I can FINALLY see my best friend, my hero, my sister.
When I left California, I made a plan to return for Easter. It made the leaving a small fraction easier, knowing I would return. Someone told me that no matter how far away the date, having a goal in mind helps with the waiting. And, you know what, it actually has!... Until now.
There are seven days left. I started planning this trip in December. I committed to this trip in January. Airline tickets were officially purchased in February... So far, I have endured 81 days of waiting. As you can tell from my last post, I've been busy, so these last 81 days have actually passed pretty quickly. But now that there are only seven left, each day creeps by at a snail's pace. THEY ARE THE LONGEST DAYS EVER. I am afraid I will implode from excitement and sheer anticipation. I am completing my work faster, hoping it will make time pass more quickly (it doesn't); I am sleeping horribly, hoping a large amount of time has elapsed since the last time I rolled over and looked at the clock (it usually hasn't); time can, literally, not pass quickly enough!
As a result, I have come to the conclusion that I need to calm down. I need to chill. Take a bath, read a book - just chill. Otherwise, I may collapse before April 1 actual arrives, thus preventing me from traveling at all... So, I'm going to try.
I'm sorry I haven't written to you lately. I know that I promised to, and the fact that I've failed has provided me with no small amount of guilt, I assure you. I don't have a great excuse either; in fact, the only one I have is pretty lousy. Here it is... I've been avoiding you.
Let me unpack that a little bit for you... Why have I been avoiding you? Why have I gone back into my shell? I grew tired of all the sadness I was experiencing. I so deeply missed my family and my job at Vanguard that it overwhelmed me on a pretty consistent basis. Every time I would write, I would get sad. And when I would re-read (as the anal, OCD side of me likes to do) I would get sad all over again. And I was just tired of wallowing in it. So I stopped writing.
Do I still get sad? Sometimes. I just have less time to think about it! I think there is a difference from that and repression, if only a small one... But my plate is full now. I have a full time, live-in job that occupies most of my energy and the small remainder is spent relaxing with Chris. BUT.It's no excuse for retreating from our verbal give and take that I once found incredibly helpful and fulfilling, and I sincerely apologize.
So, here I am, writing to you finally, two months after my last entry. A lot has happened.
In January, I received the opportunity to take the next step and continue in my career in University Residence Life here in Texas. And what a step it has been! I am now solely responsible for an entire dorm of 370 undergrads, run a co-ed RA staff of 12 and also an additional 14 office assistants, as well as spend at least 24 hours a week on-call in case of emergencies.A lot has happened.My life has changed significantly.Chris is also busier than ever with tennis.While he was out of a job, and then when we were in two separate states for those many weeks, I forgot what it was like - the hours it takes, the stress it puts him under, the frustration it can cause… I worry about him sometimes.Chris is an excellent coach with high expectations and even higher ambitions.Being an NCAA Div I coach has been as much a joy as a challenge, and he has had to work hard and will continue to have to work even harder to get where he wants to.But I have faith in him.That’s the job of the coach’s wife, as I have learned it to be.
In February, Chris and I started to sink into a routine.Slowly, the drama of moving and all the transition started to settle.Life began to feel almost normal… Wouldn’t you know it—it was at this time that I had my first migraine, which produced some drama.Before my migraine hit one Tuesday evening, I experienced numbness throughout my body that started in my toes, traveled to my fingertips, then to my mouth, limiting my speech.Chris took me to the hospital.When we got there, it almost felt as if the numbness had spread to my brain because I was having a hard time comprehending things, almost as if my brain was working more slowly.The numbness faded pretty quickly after we arrived at the ER, but that is when the mind-numbing headache set in.The rest is pretty fuzzy to me. But, after several hours of sleeping and moaning in the ER—which sufficiently freaked out Chris and, by extension, my entire family—I was released without much of an explanation.Since then, I have acquired an neurologist, had a CT, MRI, EEG, vials and vials of blood drawn and tested, and after all the poking and prodding, the conclusion she came to is… MIGRAINES. This is a very non-dramatic diagnosis for everything that I went through, but I’m not complaining.
To be perfectly honest, ever since Jaime’s brain tumor a year and a half ago, and since my grandpa died of brain cancer last year, I’ve wondered if I should get a CT or an MRI to check my brain too. But my scans were clear, and at least now I know.
In exactly nine days, I get to go home for a few days!I don’t know that California will ever stop being home... It’s interesting to gauge people’s reactions when I tell them I’m from California.Usually it’s a mixture of wonder, suspicion, glamour, and amazement.To me, California means none of these things… To me, California means Jaime. It means Cole. It means Josh. It means Mom. It means Rick and Kay and Matthew. It means Rick and Mary and Aaron.It means Staci. It means Cathi and Courtney and Laycee and Steph.It means Bill.It means Jessie and Ty and Taylor and Christine…And many more… To me, California means the dozens of people in my life whom I love so dearly and whose rich company I miss so much.I cannot wait to go home, not for the beach or the sunshine or the food (though that may be second), but… For you.I cannot wait to see you in nine days.
