Cleaning out my office, I found this lovely little relic.
I could have written it last week, but closer inspection reveals that I wrote this maybe 15 years ago.
Is it still true? I was struggling with a lot at that particular time point (when was there ever not a struggle? Good question) and here I am, again, trying to make my peace with the way the chips land.
When will I ever?
In other news, the boys are traveling out of state by themselves. That’s all I’m saying about this for now.
So. Something happened.
I already committed this to my private journal, so no need to belabor here. Suffice it to say, I am mourning, and I am masking.
I haven’t had the need in three years, and necessity compels me to do it now.
I’ve forgotten how uncomfortable it feels, yet I’m somehow better than ever at doing it. Maybe because I am building in breaks to take it off, idk.
I no longer feel safe.
What a privilege it was to feel safe.
This is what I’m calling this year, the sunset of my sixth decade, a year I never dreamed in a million years that I’d hit—it’s here, now.
I’m closing the end of my second year in my doctoral program by submitting my draft prospectus. Next comes approval and movement toward the proposal; then IRB, then God help me, I hope I can get people to talk to me.
I’m not there yet, but I’m a lot closer than I was two years ago.
I don’t know what comes next. Just trusting the process and that this is exactly where I need to be right now.
I’m sick. My voice isn’t working. That’s never a good thing. In a previous life, I must have been a prey animal, because the amount of anxiety sickness brings is beyond stupid.
It’s really of a piece. Maybe this was as good as it was going to get. Now to get ready for the pancake. Which sounds a lot better than it is.
The weather has been gorgeous, and all I can do is enjoy it through the window.
The magnitude of what happened yesterday is just beginning to catch up.
My kid did what no one expected him to do.
And he did it better than I did (GPA .5 better than mine) and in the same timeframe as his peers.
And he has his brother talking about when it’s his turn (not if. WHEN).
He’s working out the what next part. This may take a while, but that’s okay—even he was surprised at how quickly he did it.
Damn. This is a lot.
My younger guy graduated from my alma mater today.
Lots to figure out, but that’s a tomorrow problem.
Mr. Spiky Cognitive Profile
Mr. ADHD
Mr. Space Cookie
My slow processor. The one they couldn’t say for certain if he had TBI at birth or not.
The one they said probably wouldn’t be able to do academic work…..
….is graduating with his same-age peers with a higher GPA than I had.
(I have no excuse)
Of course, this means nothing if he isn’t able to get a job because he can’t pass the interview process. Or….a million other things. The grief of the things that may never happen for my guys is real.
But I will not let grief take away the joy of the things that somehow do happen.
Keep looking for the bluebirds, rainbows, and silver linings.
