Nov 10, 2008

Enough with politics, let's get back to MY world.

My mom sent these pictures when they returned home from the coast. (They don't have an internet connection there — can you imagine the hardship I endure not being able to check email?) This particular pair struck me as a great metaphor for the last six months. There we are in the first one, chilling and enjoying the moment, dimly aware that the ocean (life) can be a capricious bitch, not particularly feeling in the crosshairs, but flirting with danger (big change) with no plan to handle potential crises. Then we're scrambling to outrun the predicament I put us in, still unaware of how much worse things would get before they got better. A picture of my mother hugging me while I cried would be too literal. And I don't know what image might represent Grace and me now. I know we would look less complacent than in the first picture and less terrified than in the second. I hope I'm not naive, assuming the worst is over, and that our work now is to be thankful, optimistic and, of course, more regular, gastro-intestinally speaking. A friend told me I need to "get used to a new normal," which is apparently a longer process than I would like. I still sometimes wake up and think John is next to me, or I look at my watch and think he'll be home from work any minute. But those moments are fading, being replace by experiences that comprise our new normal. And it's not so bad.

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