Hope...

I haven't cried...
Not when my grandmother died or when a good friend's father passed; not even at his funeral. I didn't cry when I watched the news about Japan or in each day since; I didn't cry when I heard of the tragic loss of a friend's brother who was taken much too soon from a crippling disease. In fact, it has been a very long time since I've cried.

And the thing is, I've felt such tremendous sadness in this past month, a deep, profound weight upon my chest and heart that I haven't been able to release. Writing helps and talking helps, friends and family help. Running helps, but I haven't been able to find that place of starting over I guess; that place where I begin each day and from where I try to deal with whatever comes. But it was tonight, for the first time in a long time that the tears came, without warning and I couldn't stop them. I didn't want to...

I stood outside tonight, looking around our backyard and I thought about the past 13 years that this has been our home and I thought about those moments with the boys, playing with them when they were little, splashing in the pool, jumping on the trampoline and although I still get to enjoy that with Ty, the age differences bring a unique dimension to our backyard activities as the two older ones aren't really all about "digging in the dirt" anymore. I thought about Nick taking his first steps here and bringing Ty home from the hospital and I realized that for Jake, just like for the other two, that this is the only home he's ever known, even though he was just 13 months when we moved in. This is the only home any of them have ever known. And as I thought that, I began to cry.

Nothing is ever as simple as you want it to be, not a single thing. You put away the unused toys but you turn around and they've multiplied. You pull weeds in the backyard planter only to find more in the front yard. You clean the bathroom floor and that night, a sick kid throws up all over it. There is no "end" of anything. To simplify your life only means one thing; yard sale. No, really, it means attempting to redefine your previously erratic and overscheduled life while trying to maintain some semblance of who you were and what you once liked about yourself. I think it is the mere idea of "the possibility of" that keeps us young and dreaming and idealistic. But when that wanes or is gone, then what's the point anymore? If, at some juncture in your life, you stop and say, that's it, I have nothing left to learn or to teach or to give or to be, then, really, your life is over. I like to fall asleep every night while imagining a new story in my head; sometimes they involve me, but mostly they don't. They involve crazy scenarios where people act out of the ordinary and where the realm of ideas is never squelched or tainted by the mantra, "You're too old to do that..." Yes there are things that I'm not going to get to do in this lifetime and there are certainly reasons for my inability to be a major league baseball player or a pole dancer, but, at the same time, I like to imagine that I could be if I wanted and sometimes those thoughts lead to dreams and then it really gets interesting...

Catharsis... crying, weeping, emoting - all cathartic and leaving me feeling exhausted and hopeful and ready to start over again tomorrow, thankful and blessed that I get another day; even if it is one fraught with the repeated dilemma or boo-boo. Maybe the act of letting it out as the tears run down my face is nothing more than some area of my brain telling me that it's okay to let go of the frustration and fear and anger that has been building these past months. It has to be. I mean some people cry when they have sex and if it's a release for them... but, I digress...

I had a few moments today of sheer bitchiness too and I can't help but think that some of that comes into play here as I let my sadness overcome me. For all of my parent friends out there, "Yvette made some bad choices today..." and had I been in preschool, I most certainly would have spent some serious energy resting in the timeout chair let me tell you. But, needless to say, I am now ready to doze off, prepared to be awoken by the alarm beeping at 5:45 so that Rosh and I can head off to yoga, prepping for another day of Lord knows what.

I like to sit and think about all of the things that make me happy and I know that's what I was doing tonight as I looked out at the trees and the sky and the stars, but I am the kind of person who balances it out by thinking about what pains me and hurts me as well. As if the equation HAS to be balanced in order for it to work itself out in my mind. And tonight I thought about the people who have been lost this past month and I thought about all of the volunteers and the people who are donating blood and money and supplies to help victims all over the world. I thought about a friend who will leave soon for over 2 years to make a mark in another part of the world as a member of the Peace Corps. I thought about a friend who is already changing the world through her generosity and giving spirit and who, when she finishes medical school, will certainly leave an indelible mark on society. I thought about Rosh and the girls and my brother Steve, who I've missed this past week. I thought about my best friend and a former a student who is visiting Haiti right now, designing housing for the displaced. I thought about an upcoming wedding and a student who is going to have a baby soon and I dwelled on how terrible I played in our soccer game last night. I thought about how much I miss ice cream (gave it up for lent) and how I'm looking forward to running 8-10 miles this Sunday. I thought about love and loneliness and, for some reason, the theme from Rocky as the notes bounced through my head. And I thought about how age really is just a number, always has been.

And so, I may not be better, but I do feel better and, overall what else can we really ask for? To feel good, well, happy, content, whatever it's called, however it's defined, is merely showing a desire to wake up and try again tomorrow; only this time, to be a bit better than the day before. Let's hope so... sweet dreams.