Thursday, September 20, 2007

Speechless

I'm at a loss for words right now.

Life threw me a curve ball last Friday night, hitting me strait in the chest, taking my breath away- and I'm still trying to catch it.

My grandma's sick. Very, very sick actually. She has leukemia and she's dying.

I'm 7,000 miles away, without any friends or family close by and all I want is for someone to wrap their arms around me and tell me its going to be OK. But that's not going to happen- at least not anytime soon.

I'm trying to be strong, really, I am. I know I need to focus on the positives- remembering the good times, being thankful for our road trip to Oklahoma that we took this summer, finding comfort in knowing that she is not in any pain and is resting comfortably at home. But you know what, I CAN'T!

I'm pissed! I'm sad. I'm scared. I'm BEYOND devastated and there isn't anything that anyone can do or say to make this any better. I just don't understand how she can be so deathly sick- yet, just two months ago, she was perfectly fine.

Of course I knew that this day would eventually come, but I never expected it to happen like this, with me being so far away and feeling so helpless and not being able to say goodbye or even give her one last hug and kiss.

What's even worse is the fact that before I decided to go to France, one of my biggest hesitations was leaving for an entire year because, heaven forbid, what would i do if something happened to grandma or grandpa while i was away? Well, looks like I'm about to find out.

I'm sorry this is such an angry and depressing entry, but this is the best way for me to make sense of my feelings right now. So please, if you wouldn't mind, say a little prayer for my Grandma Becky and my family, because we could really use it right now.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Dreaming Of You Tonight

I plug in the headphones and turn up the volume.

As "Radio Classique" begins to fill my room with its soothing melodies, a sigh of relief slips out from underneath my breath and I slowly realize that I have survived yet another day.

The children are in bed. The dishes are clean. And I am finally free.

It's only the end of day 14, but these last two weeks have felt like an eternity. With hundreds of emotions running through my mind every second of every day, I can't help but be exhausted. But for some reason or another, a sense of calm has overcome me tonight, and I find myself thinking not of Paris, or of how far away I am, or of how difficult things have been, but of something far more important.

Tonight, all I care to think about is my family.

As I listen to the music, I close my eyes and immediately see my father sitting outside on his patio, reading a book, with his wife by his side and their littlest playing out in the yard. In another instant, I can see my mom and John sitting out on the back porch over looking the beatiful waters of the bay, watching the sun go down as they drink their wine and enjoy each others company.

I know that I may be thousands of miles away, but, at least for tonight, I feel as though I am right there beside them.



So to all of my family and friends out there, I want you to know that I not only keep you close in my heart, but also in my dreams.

Good night and sleep tight.