My Love Actually Moment

So I arrived from Texas exhausted due to no sleep, upset because I hadn't been able to study at all, and ready to cry because of all of the emotional duress I had felt for Jenna. I just wanted to melt into my Andrew's arms, and fall asleep while he petted my hair. As I was walking to baggage claim I think I see Andrew in the waiting area, but I'm not entirely sure because my glasses are hidden somewhere in my bag. As I walked closer, I saw the man I thought to be Andrew holding a HUGE/person sized poster with my name on it...which is something Andrew would totally do to be funny, so I walked up and kissed him. "Cute, very cute" I said, to which he replied "No no, step back, there's more"

People were taking pictures and everything...it was so cute. I felt like he was proposing to me all over again or something, and he went to all that trouble just to welcome me home :) I know that the poem isn't exactly Shakespeare, but he actually wrote that one himself so I think it's even cuter!

It was so funny how much we missed each other over those four days, and how much I really wished he could have been there to hold my hand over the weekend...We had a rough December, so everyday I feel blessed beyond measure that we got through it, and love each other all the more for it.

God loves me this much.

My Oh My

This weekend was eventful to say the least. I just wanted to say that and leave it there, as Jenna's business is nobody else's, but my oh my if it wasn't stressful and dramatic.

The visit with my mother was AMAZING. I really do miss her, and as I come to understand her more, I really do just love her so much. I finally got to make-up with my Texas Melissa, and it was so amazing I nearly cried. I have missed her so much, and it was just like nothing changed. Of everything that happened this weekend, I can say with confidence I am most grateful for her and I making up. I got to spend a night dancing with Philip (and all of the gays in Houston for that matter), and it was great to see my boo/first husband. I ran into a few old friends that I didn't expect to see, and that was also wonderful.

After seeing Jenna's 120,000.00 BRAND NEW and beautiful house with 5 bedrooms/3 FULL bathrooms....I am thoroughly convinced that if we are going to buy real estate, PDX may not be the place. However, it is a whole other world down there, and it is so funny how I constantly remember the values but forget the feel...if we do move to Texas we're going to have to move to Austin. Still the Country of Texas, but more a feel of home.

I did not get to study at all, but fortunately my Bio teacher is going to let me take a make-up exam for a penalty of 10%, which is far better than the F I was sure to get without a make-up. I arrived home thoroughly exhausted, after about 4 hours of sleep each night, to the most tender and caring husband on the planet. I will have to post pictures of what he did at the airport, but later tonight.....seriously-I have always wanted someone to do what he did for me, and I nearly cried and peed with pure joy. (nice combo, yes?)

I miss my home friends. I do. And while I love Texas, what would I do without Melissa, Julia, Liz, and Rachael?....I have loved having them around the corner. I don't know what the future holds, but as long as it holds all my people-I'm not really concerned.

Loves.

P.S. Don't forget-you HAVE to see what Andrew did for me at the airport. ;)

Delay delay delay

I leave for Texas in three days for Jenna's (Jenaenae) wedding.

I have yet to tackle ANY of the things I needed to get done before leaving, and have instead been GLUED to Nie Nie's blog. I have read from start to current in roughly 3.5 days, during which I should have been studying (for the quiz I just decided to skip this morning-she drops the lowest quiz score anyway), doing PILES of homework(well, not really piles because most of it is online...so maybe FILES?...hmm), packing, or an assortment of other very useful and important things.

Instead I have been reading Nie and requesting that Andrew now refer to me as "Ro" like Lawrence from work does. She has taken over my mind (I was actually even contemplating blogging in her colored and varying texts like she does in the shower this morning-where all my real thinking occurs-but decided that's just lame and akin to stealing her creativity or something), and I'm sure when I'm finished with this blog it will have sounded a lot like her. I have realized I need more pictures in my blog, but I'll get to that in a minute.

Other things I have been doing while neglecting the things I should be doing:

-Spending time with Andrew and appreciating him and making him giggle. (really)

-Spending time with friends even though I made a declaration that I wouldn't until the end of term.

-Talking to my very patient and amazing husband about the fact that my tender little heart has been humbled by God through Nie's blog, and that if I listen carefully a few things will happen:

We will have a baby(gasp, biologically), maybe more than one. That I don't want to pursue medicine, regardless of my desire for it, and wake up when I'm 35 and realize I spent the last 10+ years of my life crapping all over my blessing of a husband and being selfish. That there are other things I can do, and since I've finally stopped to listen to God instead of making my own plans, medicine is done. That I can help people just as much using this Community Health Education undergraduate just as much as being a physician, but ever the Heather I am-I've already started looking(actually found of course) the graduate program I want to attend. More on this later. That MAYBE babies are not that annoying, and it has everything to do with how I approach it. And a lot of other things.

-Having a very serious talk with the HB and coming to the conclusion that it really hurts his feelings that I talk about him so much with my friends. So I'm going to limit that, because he deserves to not have hurt feelings because he's such a prince.

-Reading the poem he posted on our computer for me to read everyday, following suit after the whiteboard wall poems....which I will share because he doesn't mind me sharing the good stuff :)

If ever you need me,

I'll be right here,

To chase away the sadness,

And wipe away a tear.

If ever you need me,

I'll be two steps behind,

To follow in your footsteps,

And hear what's on your mind.

If ever you need me,

You'll never have to fear,

That your presence isn't important,

And your love isn't dear.

If ever you need me,

I'll always be around,

To bring back the laughter,

Where deep in your heart it's found.

You'll never have to worry,

For I'll always be here,

To chase away the sadness,

And wipe away a tear.

I am here for you!

Heather

Always and forever

Andrew

He just googles them, or something, not really sure. But he's pretty stinking cool.

-Spent time evaluating how I dress, and realizing that the Mormons are onto something with this whole modesty thing. Plus-it will turn my husband on more if he gets to see more bits of me than everyone else.

-Losing weight. After a visit with a very "nice" lady...insert other negative adjectives in quotes...about my dizziness and nausea that I've been experiencing for about two years, and being treated like an idiot, and her calling my eating habits my "feeding" habits(translate: you're a fat cow and I don't know what you expect me to help you with today Ms. Rowlett. That was paraphrased) I have lost 8 lbs. and have been cooking all my meals. Eat that "nice" lady. I will feel better about myself.

-Talking with the HB about quitting my job for Spring term, but most definitely for Summer term so I can just work markets with him, and then focus on school.

And even now I'm supposed to be at school studying but I'm still at home blogging with wet hair that needs to be dried and food that needs to be packed so I can make my own food later....and and and and and

Instead I should be getting all this done to get ready to leave to go celebrate Jenaenae. Le Sigh.

My Amazing

I just got sucked into a blog for an hour. A whole hour that I should have been doing homework, or getting ready for work, but primarily homework. I blame Julie. I saw her little "I Read Nie Nie" banners and had to click one. Kind of like something sparkly.

From that hour of my life during which I wanted to cry and scream and slam my fists in frustration and tragedy for this amazingly strong woman, I realize something: how much I love my husband. How he would do the same for me. How precious the photos of them together now are. How his love for her is so immense.

How much her husband reminds me of mine.

I am a lucky lucky lucky lucky and blessed beyond measure girl. All of the things before, all of the tears over my own tragedies-God gave me Andrew to soak them all up and fill my mind with new things and love. I adore my husband and I am so fortunate to have found a prince to hold my hand. He is such a king among men.

My blogging has become so sporadic over the past while. I'm not really sure how to measure time anymore as I don't seem to be encapsulated it, I just float, so I'll just say this past while.

There were birthdays this weekend. A first and a 50th. There was a tragedy exposed this weekend. I haven't let it hit me as I'm using logos to carry me through. Instead of crying, or letting her cry, I told her that her (stupid) physician advising her she has something incurable and incapacitating to the point that she may die quickly and soon-isn't enough. She needs a second opinion. I didn't hold her daughter either, my very best friend, because I knew that if I did we would both crumble-and after all, nobody wants to watch their daughter(s) crumble on their 50th birthday. And she wants to experience it privately, so I cannot run around asking for someone to hold my head above water. Which would feel selfish anyway, because it is not my personal tragedy. I refuse to wear it yet, to hold it close to my skin. Right now it feels so much more secure in my planner for "when I have time," because right now I don't and tomorrow I have an exam followed by work followed by homework followed by lab followed by another two exams and a trip to Texas to be in the beginning of a marriage for another very close friend.

They're just in shock though, you know? The shock that comes with medical discovery, of listing off exactly what you read on WebMD (because your doctor is a flaming idiot, and told you you have something that he just has a "hunch" you have....asswipe...if anyone feels like bombing something this week-I have a medical office in mind) and telling word for word what your (stupid) physician told you. I want to hold them and comfort them like she always did when I was sick. I want to put on my pajamas and go over and watch Pride and Prejudice. I want to stew in it with them. I want to live her experience with her. I want to suck every moment of memories with her out while I can. I want to believe that the (stupid) doctor is wrong, even though I know his "hunch" has a 99.9% chance of being right, and that his instinct is a gift. I want this to happen to someone who deserves it.

But who deserves it?

I cannot even hold conversations with people now. My dear husband understands me, knows when to just turn the music down and shut his mouth. He has learned so much about me thus far in our marriage, and becomes more caring everyday because of it. He holds me when I need it, he talks dirty to me when I want it, and he connects with me when it is time.

But she is one of my people. I loved her far before I even liked him, and she has been so close to everything to me. It was her and Julia that I would call every single day while driving home from work when I lived in Texas. I was actually on the phone with her (both times) when I got pulled over, and forgave the very loud "FUCK!!!" I said into the phone. She understands my harsh love, and forgives my sharp edges. She is she is she is she is....and then someday she just won't be.

I was just telling Andrew the other day that statistics show that before the age of 30, you will lose someone very close to you. At least one, maybe just one, maybe less.

Yesterday he told me that because my mind works so fast, because I'm learning more and more, that my fear is only going to grow exponentially over the years. I know he is right.

There are only a few people in this whole world, in my whole life, that it would break me in half to lose. She is one of the top four. She is irreplaceable. She is she is she is she is she is she is she is.

Sadly(thankfully) this is all I have time for right now.

Tornados and Alarm Clocks

I cannot seem to force myself to do homework this term...which I have a feeling is going to start feeling and looking pretty damn terrible soon. I'm just so tired, and melancholy, and whiny, and tired...I just want to crawl into bed and not have to do ANYTHING the next day...but alas-my schedule is chock-full booked until the end of time. I find that so confining.

It makes me want to be a hippie and run away to Burning Man...which I think I'm going to do anyway....

The problem is, I married a man who is everything I was a moment ago. He's conservative, and structured, and sees things in varying shades of black and white. So he doesn't want to go, and in reality, I SHOULDN'T want to go...but what if I do?

The blessing is, I married the most amazing and caring husband. He has started writing little poems on our whiteboard wall every other morning...I have no idea where he is getting them from, but my goodness if it's not enough to melt a girl down to her core. I adore him. I'm changing a million miles a minute right now, and while he's getting wind-whipped he's holding on for dear life and trying to enjoy the ride.

Don't you just HATE IT when grown-ups are right about things like waiting to get married until you're older? I still stand firm in the fact that I married the right man, but my goodness wouldn't it all be easier if I had already dug through all of this, realized I was right in the first place, and settled in nicely cementing my conservative/black and white/churchy roots?

Instead I want to be a lesbian painter who sleeps with Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz simultaneously a la "Vicky Christian Barcelona." I am reading "Henry and June" and watching the L Word all the time, knowing that it's only exciting because it is forbidden. Sometimes though I want to roll in that grass.

Instead, I read my Bible more and pray with my husband, go to Wax On to get him gifts he'll appreciate and that keep on giving, and try again to force myself to do homework.

I'm tired.

Christmas is the Crying Season

I opened my presents from my mom today. When she bought her new car this year I jokingly said I better get one heck of a good Christmas present...so when she asked me what I wanted and I said a Nintendo DSi I knew I would get one. Since her package arrived I have just been basically peeing in excitement for my new little time waster, and today could wait no longer. It is SO FUN! The trouble didn't start until I opened the second present, which I assumed would hold the games she asked me if I wanted. Now she said while on her layover on her way to Florida that not everything had arrived before she left, but that she'd send the rest when she got back home after New Year's. I don't care honestly, I lived just fine before receiving whatever it is she is sending, so to me-no biggie, waiting will be easy.

But Andrew and Nathan went to church, and since I don't have a million dollars and didn't feel in the mood to go and be judged by what I'm wearing at the church the boys are in love with, I opted out. I stuffed my face, as I often do during the holidays. Scratch that, that was a lie, I always stuff my face lately. I digress. I stuffed my face, flipped on my mellow Pandora playlist, and then decided that I'd just say screw it and open the second present too so I could expand my DSi game library. When I finished pulling off the wrapping paper there was a cardboard box with my mom's name addressed, from Best Buy. Score one. But when I opened the box inside there was a cigar box that she had glued these little rhinestones on, and inside that box were four of our Christmas ornaments and a little sand dollar that still had sand in it. So begun the crying.

Christmas is always so hard for me for so many reasons. Those ornaments stayed with us through every single marriage she had. If one thing was constant in my life, it was that damn Christmas box and all of it's glory. We even had this candle made of red wax in the moniker of a family caroling. It had this smell that just filled that entire box, and so every year when we would drag it out and put the ornaments up Christmas had a very distinct smell. Just like mentholatum reminds me of the love my mom always gave when I was sick. I still have the same jar from 1989, covered in remnants of glitter and a thousand moves. You can barely read the label anymore, but even now, after travelling through what feels like a hundred different homes, being sent away from my mom on a train, and then flying back into her arms-the first thing I reach for when I have a stuffy nose is that more than 20 year old jar of mentholatum. Yes, I know there are new ones out there. But they don't have metal caps like this one. They aren't the one my mommy used to work that cold out of my chest. They weren't held by her hands when she loved me.

This Christmas box though, it was a big deal for her and I. Like a secret we could never share, every year we would open this box and stick our heads in and just breathe in Christmas. Until about year 2 or 3 of the Reign of Robert. He decided that Christmas wasn't about presents, so we weren't going to give them anymore. That trees, decorations, anything deemed "Christmasy" other than the Bible and whatever else he chose, were no longer allowed. We didn't celebrate Christmas from that point on. I think I was 9, maybe 10 when he decided to do that. So no more ornaments, no more Christmas box. Just them going shopping every Black Friday to buy gifts to send to his son, because he lived with his mom in Arizona and was therefore exempt from the Christmas ban. The only time we would get to do anything semi-Christmas-y was at my Grandma's house, but even then he would go through my gifts and decide what I could keep.

My mom tried to put up a fight for a minute, but then let it go. You would too if your husband/the man you were going to marry had no qualms about strangling you or forcing you to do things like abandon your child.

The next time we had a Christmas again was after she left Robert, but even then she didn't want me to live with her. Our first real-wake-up-in-the-same-house-and-everything Christmas wasn't until I was 17, after I moved down with her and Frank for Christmas. He hated when we would talk about anything in the past. Anything he wasn't a part of. He was so jealous of all of her that I had that he had missed during the time between when he knew her in the military, to when they got back together. So we couldn't really enjoy the box again. I was shocked it even survived the war, but it had. The candle had melted, but she had been wise enough to put it in a plastic back so we could at least sniff that ball of wax each year. Which is so silly, I know. But geeze if it doesn't make me want to cry.

The following year I was dating Jason and Frank had decided he didn't want to put up all of those ugly old ornaments anyway. As Jason knew my heart, and knew what it would mean to me, he bought a tree and we put all of my memory ornaments on it at his house. I was so hurt over such a silly thing. Christmas ornaments.

So Christmas is the crying season. The time when I usually just feel really crappy and miss my mom the most. And she had to go and take the time to glue little rhinestones on a stupid cigar box and send me pieces of our secret.

Which just makes me cry because she's so little in her heart. She's just someone else's little girl crying because they didn't send her pieces of their private secrets, because they didn't have any. She doesn't know what to do because it was never done to her. I know she loves me, I do. If she had just been worse at it when I was very little I wouldn't even know the difference. So in the end, I am thankful that she taught me to love. I just miss that mommy so very much.

I called her and asked her if she would come visit me this year for more than a weekend, because she spends Christmas in Florida with Kenny for a month now. Expecting a fight, or worse, I called Julia and my mother-in-law asking for advice. They both asked me if it was worth it to me to have hurt feelings if she said no. Things have been good with us for a while, and I didn't want to ruin it. I have this knack for just telling her how much she's hurt me over the years every single time things start to be good between us. I just can't seem to let go of it, and she just can't seem to experience it right along with me, so I always end up trying to rub her nose in it like a dog that pooped in the living room. But I was feeling especially bold that day and called anyway.

She asked me what month works for me.

So when I say I know that she loves me, I know that she does without a shadow of a doubt. I just keep crossing my fingers that somehow we'll find a way to meet in the middle and not live thousands of miles away from each other sometime in the future. So we can bake together, and play together, and slam doors in each others faces, but then still be close enough to make up. I just miss her. I miss her the most at Christmas. So I cry.

And that's about it.