Death By A Thousand Cuts

The tickets are purchased.  D(eparture)-Day is October 2, which seems shockingly close.  Bruce has spent the week in PH becoming acclimated and preparing the way for us.  At least that's what we are hoping, since communication has been a little spotty.  Every day I try to do a little something to get us closer to being ready. 

I really thought I was emotionally ready for this.  After all, I've felt (and still feel) that this was the right thing for us to do, but I guess there was no way to brace myself for how hard it was going to be to tear myself out of my warm little nest.  I've made changes in my life where I was so eager to put something behind me that I didn't feel the need to concern myself much with what was ahead of me.  It's pretty easy to soldier on ahead when you don't particularly feel like you are leaving anything behind.  This is so different...I can't begin to describe what it is like for me to live a life surrounded by loved ones.  I have family and friends who are close and readily available at a moment's notice for whatever I need.  I hope I'm that for them.  For a long time I tried to tell myself that I was an "independent woman" but that's not so for me.  I'm more an "interdependent woman."  I've been so content to feel like a productive and active part of my little society of friends and family.  Leaving this situation, no matter how strongly I feel that it is what we should do, has been painful.   

That said, the last week has been a bundle of good-byes.  Every person I see and every place I go causes me to wonder if that is the last time I will see them or go there for the next six months.  

We went to Wanship to say good-bye to my Grandma Go-Go.  She remembered me, and seemed warm to the girls.  She remembered the whole time that we were moving to the Philippines, but asked about ten times when we were leaving.  I kept it together, but I wonder if she will even know me anymore when we come home?  Some might think, "Why bother saying good-bye to a woman with Alzheimer's?" and all I can say to that is, "My kids don't have Alzheimer's."  It needed to be done.  

Kate is relishing her last few play dates.  Lex came over for a late night and they said they want to go somewhere "Fancy" for dinner, which to a 7 year old = Olive Garden.  Olive Garden, you could possibly be the one thing I definitely WON'T be missing. 

We spend most Sundays with George and Merrilee.  George and Kate grilled steaks and we sat around eating and visiting.  It's a tradition I'm really going to miss.

I peeked out the window and saw Kate and George shooting the breeze about who-knows-what, and there was something so casual and familiar about that moment that I had to take a picture. 

So it will last longer.

We met our newest niece, HaLee.  It was hello and goodbye all in the same day.

When we come home both of these girls will seem so grown up.

Dear Chance and Jamie,

If you really want, I can arrange for the girls to stay in the house.

Love, Me.

Monday night I went to an early birthday dinner with my bonus sisters, Amber and Emilee.  We had a delightful dinner and I completely enjoyed their company.  Amber narrowly escaped but Em wasn't so lucky: I had a little emotional breakdown in her driveway.  (Sorry about that, EH.)

Tuesday was my birthday, and my mom and my girls in the neighborhood made sure that even though Bruce was gone, the day was a great one.  We lunched and visited and cried a little.  (Or a lot when lunch was over and I was home alone.)

Me:  Anne, true friends always tell the truth.

Anne:  I agree.

Me: So you'd tell me if my pants made my hips look big?
Anne:  I'll say this: Make sure you wear those pants on our next movie date so I can sneak in a 32 oz. drink and a couple of corn dogs.

Birthday dinner?  Mi Ranchito.

If you had to ponder the answer to that question for more than about a half-second, you don't know us very well.  Jack and Kay laugh at my kids even though they make model poses on the back of the booths and throw their blankets in fried ice cream.  Don't even get me started about Jack...I can't even begin to think about how much I'm going to miss him without crying the ugly cry.  And not just because he always pays, either.