Days go by

Last weekend was a weekend to be remembered.

I opened my eyes on Saturday morning as a squirmy three-year-old wallowed into bed and asked, “Hey, are you ready for breakfast?” I wasn’t ready for breakfast, and I certainly wasn’t ready to climb out of bed, but children have no regard for weekend slumber. While David munched on cereal, I checked my email for the first time in a week and mentally jotted a to-do list for the day.

Johnathan began cutting grass around noon, so the kids and I piled into the car for a trip to the bank. Forty-five minutes and one Chick-fil-A meal later, we milled around the store, waiting for my oil change to be completed. Loaded down with garden supplies and a few food items, we continued our wait in the automotive section. While paying my bill, I was informed that my tires are thin and that my transmission is leaking. Joy. I shrugged off the abhorrent thought of more money out of pocket and prepared for an evening out with Hannah. Slightly overdressed, we made our way to the theater for a crowded showing of Sex and the City. Having seen limited unedited episodes, there were a few shocking moments, but equally as many enjoyable ones. We then had dinner outdoors under happily twinkling lights and savored the approach of summertime. We returned home with Starbucks, and I insisted that Johnathan introduce Hannah to Mitch Hedberg before she left for the evening. Shortly after, I curled under the covers and slept contentedly until morning.

Sunday dawned gray and stormy, and the kids and I sloshed our way to church sans umbrella. I always know where the umbrellas are unless it happens to be raining outside. Oh, irony. David thoroughly enjoyed his first experience in a kids church setting and came home reading Ephesians 4:32. Since then, the verse has become a little reminder whenever David and I start squabbling. After a pancake lunch, David left for an overnight stay with Art and Suzanne. I began preparing the house for quests while Emily followed me around like a happy little shadow. Around seven, the crew of friends popped in for an evening of fondue and board games. It was wonderful to relax and have fun. For the first time in ages, I felt young and colorful. It’s a strange statement for a twenty-three-year-old to make, but if you’ve been there, you understand. We enjoyed the time together and laughed as of old, but as I glanced around the circle, I noted changed faces. Life has become so much more serious. Eyes are wiser and smiles are tempered with experience. Still, there is a sense of anticipation and excitement. Erin will be married in a small ceremony this weekend and will begin teaching high school biology this fall. Kristin will continue to brave the tempestuous seas of middle school education. Jessica will shake the dust off of her feet and relocate to Los Angeles for the next year. I can’t imagine my girl being so very far away, and I already miss her keenly. Cassandra and I continue to ride the ups and downs of parenthood, and Katy is still on Friendly Avenue in Kalamazoo. Sounds a bit like Dr. Seuess. We are slowly divided by new families, responsibilities, and explorations, but we always pick up conversation as if we never ended. Our lives will never run parallel like they used to, but as long as they continue to intersect often, I can be quite content. Our friendship has lasted through middle school, high school, college, and the beginning of our professional lives. I love my girls like crazy, and I look forward to many more evenings together in our future. Whew. I teared up on that last bit, which means that I should switch gears to something more uplifting.
The week has come and gone with bursts of sunshine and many happy moments spent in my grandparent’s home. I found myself there several times this week, and I was continually compelled to pull up a chair and chat for a while. Some places never lose their comfort.

I had a biopsy of my cervix yesterday, so now it’s just a waiting game...with a bit of annoying cramping. The doctor saw one small spot and said that the biopsy itself probably got most (if not all) of the abnormal tissue. Best case scenario: it’s a mild abnormality that will need monitoring, but will more than likely disappear on its own. Today’s skies are too clear for me to think about other possible scenarios. I feel very blessed today.