Two weeks ago, in a moment of frustration, I texted Phil and said, "I'm taking Norah to Virginia next week to hang out with my parents."
"OK, bring snacks", he responded. (My mother is a vegetarian. Don't judge.)
After a practical exam in anatomy (on which I missed a single point because my "o" in chordae tendonae looked like chordae tendinae, but I wasn't going to fight it), I raced to my car, scooped up the Tot, and headed as carefully as I could to Virginia. Where there was more waiting for us than the elderly.
Hello, Commercials? It's me, Auntie. Look at this Baby.
I love that Norah got time to play with her cousin. Although my brothers (and sister-in-law) are relatively close in proximity, the nature of our lives makes it difficult to maintain in-person connections.
His love of slides is shocking.
Does everyone feel the disconnect? Where were we before our vast technology?
So, Virginia.
Leapin' Lizards
While we can be bored with Sharon's success in defeating cancer (and screw you if you are, she is a giant amongst fleas), I choose to indulge in the small, uncomfortable moments, like when my brother found a successive amount of awkward photos I'm about to share with you:
I wasn't always the badass pseudo-genius with a penchant for rhinestones. I used to be a mini-pseudo-genius with a penchant for rhinestones:
I didn't choose the swag, the swag chose me
I soon became a really uncomfortable pubescent with no sense for anything other than comedic timing:
So I said, "Take my wife." Was I supposed to be polite?
Ugh, whatever guys, this post is not about my awkward adolescence.
(I could do another one about that later.)
It's literally all centered around this one fun pic I captured the night my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew went home:
I..can't..driiiiiiiive...TILL I'MM FIIIIIIIIIVEEEEEE
Ed has been, to everyone's surprise, recovering more swiftly in his third year post-accident than ever before. While not completely autonomous, he certainly walks better than before, can engage in more fluent conversations, and can be more aware of his surroundings. This can lead to an exhausted spouse.
"But," she is wont to reply, "I don't have cancer."
I headed home after studying the endocrine and cardiovascular systems with Sharon, in depth ("You know this material already. Have some more wine, you need it."). Waiting to hear back about my nursing application is creating more grey hair than necessary, but at least I'm currently crushing the exams.
We're almost a year post-surgery, and it's staggering to think about the way a life can change in a year. Last year, I fully expected to have lost both parents by now ("To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune;" said Oscar Wilde, "to lose both looks like carelessness.") and emotionally prepared myself by distancing myself for the loss. Now, some discomfort and nausea aside, they're both doing better than expected. And that's quite the fantastic adjustment.
In Sickness and in Health, indeed.
