MONKEYS in your face

 

Man, I love these faces.

It is currently a sunny but chilly 37 degrees in our corner of Arizona on this January 14th, 2013.

There is so much beauty in this world and I am thrilled to hear and see and know it, but as you may have noticed these last weeks, Blog writing has not been on my list of activities used to appreciate the world's infinite beauty.

I haven't blogged because there is an elephant in my room. (No, I'm not referring to Pencil and his noise making talents) I'm talking about the fact that the Chief Resident I am married to is a senior... a senior who will be graduating from residency in 6 short months. Graduation. That is one half of my elephant. (The trunk half, maybe?)
It's like when you are in high school. You anticipate this day and you work towards this day and you tell yourself that the accomplishment will be this THING- you know, a moment to live in infamy or a shining beacon of truth and light and hope... probably for the whole world. AND mo matter how long it seems to take, it really comes in the blink of an eye. it catches you unawares and unprepared. And you find that the light at the end of your tunnel is really just the opening to another tunnel.

We've had graduations before, The Doctor and I. Both of us graduated from college. Then he finished Medical School. But this one is the graduation to end all graduations. (at least until Grapes matriculates to higher learning) And this 2013 graduation seems bigger- Realer-- SCARIER than all the others. (Yes, even scarier than my own dear girl graduating from high school.... mostly because I can't think too much about that yet. She's still 8 after all...)

And that is only the front half of my elephant.
This elephant's behind is the whole other part of the story where The Doctor has already signed a contract and has a job. And a starting date and specifics about salary... and he has a medical license. An OFFICIAL state of Arizona medical license like a real doctor and...... WHOA!

My head is at critical mass at this point and I don't know what to think. Because sort-of I can't think. I'm thrilled and overwhelmed. Afraid and elated and weary and humbled and thankful and excited and lost and every other emotion word *here*. (Well, maybe not angry words. There is no anger here. Or paranoia... I don't think. Is there?)


And this elephant follows me around, and I can't talk about him, because I talk too much anyway, and my crazy-brain can't form real words about it anyway and if I talk about it it's like I'm checking out and saying good-bye and I still have six months left! And I decided that I'm going to keep living like normal because there is still so much of our HERE time left, before the THERE time and the new tunnel begin.

So what keeps happening? I talk about it anyway! That mouth of mine.

(it's embarrassing when your mouth has a mind of its own. It's also embarrassing when your blog post turns into a novel of chaos. But let's be real here, you knew it would happen.)


I haven't blogged because that is what is in my head right now. It's kind of a mess.

My intentions are so big for this year of 2013. I want to potty train a monkey and plant some more trees. I want to paint my bathroom and sew a cute new bag (or 20...) I want to read more books and finish at least one of the ones I'm writing. I want to sell my little home and find a brilliant new house for us (or at least one that will work and that I can like a little) AND I hope to experience that grand shift of focus that is bound to come when my light at the end of the tunnel reveals nothing more that a breath of fresh air before another tunnel begins. That shift of focus that helps me see there is a new light to work towards and maybe new joys on the course to come.

You think anyone will want to buy my house with an elephant in it?