Archive for the ‘The Husband’ Category
Sigh. So much has happened since last week, I don’t even know where to start.
I guess, a little background and then some backtracking and then some explaining.
So, for all medical residencies and most fellowships, there is a match process. It’s kind of confusing, but physicians apply to programs, either do or don’t get interviews based on their resume, interview and then rank the programs. The programs rank the candidates and then some weird computer program spits out the match. Once you’re placed, it’s done. You don’t get to change your mind, if you rank a program, you are saying you’ll go there if you match there. It’s complex initially, but the results are clean and easy. Just the way I like them.
Naturally, my husband’s fellowship for next year is not part of the match. It has this horribly obnoxious rolling application process with no deadlines and no details and some programs have already got their fellows for 2015 and others are just starting the application process for 2014 (programs start July 1), but no one says this outright and yea, hot mess.
So my husband has been applying and interviewing for months. And last Saturday, he was offered a fellowship at a New York hospital and given 5 days to decide. Everyone agreed this was kind of a weird timeframe since the fellowship doesn’t begin for 8 months, but it was what it was. So my husband contacted the 2 other programs he was waiting on and would pick over the New York program and told them about the offer. He got an immediate reply from one who said basically, we don’t have the funding, don’t wait on us. And the other never replied. Which is horribly obnoxious.
On Monday night, a few days early, my husband made a decision and sent an email agreeing to the fellowship in New York. It wasn’t our first choice, but our first choice had been ignoring emails for months and we got tired of waiting. And ultimately, we can make anything work and we were feeling largely positive about the decision.
So naturally, on Friday morning, my husband got an email offering him a fellowship at his #1 choice, which also happens to be in Southern California. And 25 minutes from my current job. And it’s everything we’ve ever wanted. 4 days late.
So my husband spoke with several of his Attendings and basically presented his predicament. Every single one of them said he should take the California program and that people back out of these fellowships regularly (which is why they need to be part of the match because it’s ridiculous that everyone gets offers at different times and timelines and aaaaaah). He hadn’t signed any kind of contract with New York (they hadn’t even discussed it, nor presented him with one), so while it’s not the most ethically great thing to do, it’s not out of the ordinary and it shouldn’t be a big deal. That program would just offer the spot to the next person in line. Everyone was thrilled, life was good. My husband accepted the Southern California spot (and told them he was backing out of another program, to which they said, oh that happens all the time), and on the recommendation of his boss, waited until Monday (as it was late Friday by this point), to call New York to tell them.
And here’s where shit gets interesting and complicated and why on earth can’t things just be easy?
New York said no. Like, no you can’t back out. They said they told their other guy no, so my husband can’t back out. And we’re like, wait, what? And look, we realize, all of us, that backing out is a professionally not awesome thing to do. No one is trying to beat around the bush on that. It’s embarrassing, it feels crappy and it’s lousy to do to them. No one here is feeling proud about it. But, the California fellowship is better academically and it’s better for our family and, people back out of these fellowships for this very reason ALL THE TIME. Like, no one even batted an eye when they told my husband to back out and take the other one and without their advice, he wouldn’t have done it.
But New York is saying no and we have NO IDEA what to do about that. They’re going to call their #2 choice and if that person says no, I have really no idea what happens. Legally my husband has no obligation to go anywhere at this point. No contracts have been signed, no details hammered out, but there is an ethical issue and if New York can’t fill it’s spot, my husband has an ethical obligation to go.
But he doesn’t want to.
We would be fine in New York. We would survive and it would be no big deal. But it’s just, it really sucks. The whole situation sucks. It sucks that the California program couldn’t email him earlier in the week. It sucks that the New York program is being strict and that my husband now both looks and feels like a totally unprofessional asshole, when he was heeding the advice of seasoned physicians who have dealt with this for decades.
And that whole knowing what was happening next thing that I was just enjoying the ever living shit out of? Yep, gone. No idea where we’re going to live. Everyone got their hopes up and now everyone’s hopes are down and I just want to know. I can live anywhere but I just want to know. And I want my husband to be happy again like he was this past weekend, because he was so happy and so proud of himself and that was just great to see and to be around. He worked hard and he deserves this and he is a really good person who just feels like hell about what’s happened.
And I have no idea how to end this except to say that I’m ready for this shit show to end.
So last month I wrote about my husband’s fellowship journey and the opportunities ahead of us. Last Thursday he interviewed at a program in Buffalo, New York, one that has been pursuing him for some time. He was a little hesitant about the program because it doesn’t have the name recognition that some other programs have, but they were very interested in him, so he went ahead and interviewed. And when he called me on Thursday I could tell that his tune had changed. He liked the people, they were welcoming, he liked the program, he felt very comfortable there and they were talking like they were going to offer him the position.
And Saturday morning, they did. With a 5 day time limit to accept.
So at that point he had some decisions to make. We had some decisions to make. There were still 2 programs he had interviewed at that he had not heard back from and both are considered more prestigious, so he went to those programs first. One replied and said they didn’t get the funding for the position and the other, the one southern California program we had put a lot of hope in, didn’t get back to him. This shouldn’t be surprising since he’s sent 3 emails in the past 3 months and hasn’t received any replies, but it’s still frustrating nevertheless.
We had a good talk and ultimately the decision was not that difficult. The program in Buffalo had everything he was looking for, and even more, they wanted him there. He liked it. It was a nice city, the people were lovely and basically the only hold up was the idea of packing us up and moving across the country. And the more we talked the more we realized that it wasn’t really that big of a hold up. Moving somewhere new for a year feels a bit like an adventure and we like snow. We can do anything for a year, even lake effect snow (at some point someone is going to have to explain to me what that means).
So, he accepted the offer at Buffalo and in June we’ll be packing up and moving across the country. I am mostly excited, though I definitely have intermittent moments of anxiety. My only real concern is moving Eli away from his cousin Addie because they are such adorable playmates (and because I’ll miss seeing my sister, too) and I hate to do anything to that relationship. But logically I know they’re both too little to remember this time in their life and really this is the perfect time to do it.
So now I know. Which is a big relief for all of us and now we can begin to plan the next phase. It’s an adventure and while there are still a lot of unknowns ahead, it’s an adventure I’m really looking forward to taking.
I realized I’ve alluded on various social networks and even here that our future is a bit cloudy right now, but I figured I may as well take some time to elaborate a bit. I’m sure you can all use a break from my riveting PTSD coverage anyway. (You’re welcome)
My husband is in his final year of his original Residency/Fellowship (he did a combination program) and will be completely finished at the end of June 2014, which, hallelujah, that was a very long 5 years for him. At that point, he can go out and just be a physician, which is kind of awesome considering how long it’s taken to get to that point, but, that’s not what he wants. So instead, the past few months he’s been applying for a second fellowship. He wants to do one more year of training (that is highly specialized), which will allow him to have a more narrow scope of practice and make him pretty highly appealing to just about any children’s hospital in the county.
So the interviews have been going on since August. So far he’s interviewed with a hospital here in Southern California and one in Cleveland. He has another scheduled next week in Buffalo and another right after that in Virginia. I’m not sure if you realized, but Cleveland, Buffalo and Virginia are oddly not in Southern California.
I’ve been doing this dance with these interviews, because I do support whatever it takes to get my husband to the point where he can be the physician he wants to be, but at the same time, the idea of packing up for a year to move across the country is tough. He and I both agree that the Southern California option is our first choice for several reasons, but they have had issues with funding and so it’s looking less and less likely. At the same time, the program in Buffalo is more and more interested. They called him at 10:30 their time on a Sunday night to let them know they wanted to interview him. They tracked down one of his coworkers at a conference last week to let her know that they are highly interested in him for the spot. They want him and the availability in their program was a surprise (someone backed out after originally committing) and is not something to be ignored.
It just feels like we’re living, but not really. We don’t know where we’re living next year. We don’t know if I’ll be working or not. We don’t know if Eli will go to preschool or stay home with me. We don’t know if we’ll have a house or another apartment or some variation therein. We can’t make any long term plans for our lives because we just don’t know anything beyond June. It’s like we’re living in a waiting room. Waiting to get the call or email with our next stop.
We are comforted that my husband’s current hospital has offered him a position as an attending if he doesn’t get a fellowship so there’s not a great deal of panic about that, and he can reapply next year (part of the issue is that he started applying a bit too late, which was entirely not his fault and very frustrating). It takes a lot of the stress off of him, which is a good thing because I know that this is terribly taxing on him.
I’m struggling the most because I really love my job and don’t want to leave it. It’s some place that I can see myself working at for decades. It’s small, but it feels very much like a family. I love the people and patients I work with, I love the work I’m doing and the idea that if I go away for a year, I may not be able to come back to it is terribly sad. But at the same time, I’m willing to risk that for my husband because I know that his desires are as strong as mine and he has worked so very hard to get to this point, I can’t hold him back.
Sacrifices are being made all around and they are tough (as sacrifices are wont to be). I will be fine regardless of where we live next year. Truly. I can adapt and I will, but the waiting is killing me softly. I just want to know already.
Today we’ve been married five years.
It’s funny because five years doesn’t sound like a very long time, especially when you compare to our family members who have been married for 40 or 50 years, but it feels like a long time. I don’t mean that like the sarcastic “it feels like forever” kind of way, but rather just that 5 years doesn’t sound long enough.
This year has been unquestionably my favorite one so far. It has not been the easiest, but it has also not been the hardest by any means. I was having more trouble than usual articulating my thoughts about us, about surviving and enjoying the past 5 years and then I remembered a song you played for me last month.
The son is about the origin of love, and has roots in Greek mythology. According to the story, people used to walk around with 4 arms and 4 legs and two heads, until one day, Zeus cut them all in half. And then these two legged people spent the rest of their lives looking for their other half, trying to make themselves whole again.
You know I’m sentimental, but the moment I heard about the myth and the song I felt so strongly like I understood how this myth came to be.
Before I met you, I wandered. The months preceding the day we met, I had been studying halfway across the world. I was lonely and I felt that loneliness in such a deep persistent way. It like something was physically missing in my life. I wanted a relationship, but every time I tried to date someone, it felt wrong. It was awkward and complicated and just wrong.
And then I met you.
We weren’t in the same group at our orientation, but I remember going up to you and complimenting your shirt. I remember being almost second hand embarrassed by your lack of embarrassment at your part in one of the skits that night, but I realize now that it was just another part of how we fit together so beautifully. The next night, despite the lousy situation, talking with you was the easiest that conversation had ever come to me. I left that night with excitement in my stomach because there was just something about you.
Meeting you was like finding my other half. People ask me all the time how I handle your antics and I just smile because I know what they think. I tend to be reserved and you are not. I tend to be careful with my words and you are not (as much, and you make people believe you’re not at all). But the thing is, we fit together. You are everything I’m not able to be. I am everything you’re not able to be. We are a pair. We are opposites, but together, we’re whole.
Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You make me the best version of myself because you let me be me. You help cover up my imperfections, you help magnify my strengths. You don’t ask me to be anything but myself, even when that isn’t what the rest of the world finds to be such a great thing.
And I know I haven’t always been so great about letting you be yourself. Sometimes I want you to be quieter or calmer, but even in those moments, I love that you have that exuberance that I lack. I love that you have the ability to embrace the day with reckless abandon. You let me leave my weary, worried heart behind and experience bits of carefree living each day in a way that on my own I never would.
I feel grateful each day to have found you, my other half. To be able to look at you and see what I was missing all those years. I can’t imagine what life would be like without you, how I could walk this earth incomplete, how I did it for 21 years.
I know that there have been some hard parts this year. Parts where you’ve had to be stronger than you should’ve had to be. Parts where we’ve said things we didn’t mean and used words we regret. But as we turn this page and start another year, I feel like we are stronger and better than we’ve ever been.
I hope you know how very much I love you and that I am grateful each day to get to share my life with you. I don’t give you praise enough for being a loving husband, for being an incredible father and a loyal and supportive friend, but you are all those things and more. I know the next few years are a bit uncertain, but wherever they take us, I’m just so grateful I get to go there with you.
You are truly my better half, and together, we are an incredible whole. Happy anniversary.
“Last time I saw you
We had just split in two.
You were looking at me
I was looking at you.
You had a way so familiar
But I could not recognize
Because you had blood on your face,
I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine.
That’s the pain,
Cuts a straight line
Down through the heart;
We called it love.”
The Origin of Love
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Four years ago last night I was in a hotel in Brea, California with my mom and step-dad. I knew I should feel nervous and have trouble sleeping, which would’ve been normal for me, but instead I was settled. I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t worried. I was excited, but calm because I knew that what was to come the next day was exactly what I’ve always wanted.
Four years ago I donned a white dress, had my hair and makeup done and I walked through a crowd of family and friends. And I married my best friend. It was the first step to a future, a family. A life we both wanted so dearly.
I say this every year, but it remains true. These four years have seemed like a lifetime (in a good way), but have somehow also passed in the blink of an eye. I look back at pictures of that day and we look so…young. It’s only been four years, but we have done so much living in that time that I hardly recognize the kids at that wedding.
In four years we have both gotten our doctorates. You have finished 3 years of your residency. I have secured my first job in the field that I hope to be in forever. I got pregnant and we had a baby, our son. We aren’t the same two people who made those vows. We are older and wiser. And we are living up to our promises more than ever before.
We are a family.
The past year has been our best, I think. The arguments have been few and far between. The love has been bigger, stronger than ever. I feel more connected, more attached than I have ever been before. And now we have this child, this beautiful baby boy. Watching you with him each night warms my heart in ways I cannot explain. Hearing you sing to him, talk to him and just love him, unconditionally, is better than anything else I’ve ever known in my life. Your love for him enhances mine.
You are every bit the father I knew you’d be and the most amazing husband I could ever ask for. You push me when I need it and support me when the time for pushing is over. You love me through all the good and bad, through my faults and ugly moments.
I don’t know how to best tell you how much I love you and how blessed I feel to have you as my partner in life. I wouldn’t be who or where I am today without you and the idea of that is devastating. You have given me the life I’ve always dreamed about and the fact that we still have so much life left to live together makes me excited for all that is left to come.
Thank you for four incredible years, for a beautiful baby boy. For a million tomorrows and for the unconditional love that fuels my soul. I have loved every moment and cannot wait for all the rest.
As I write this, it’s is still Valentine’s Day, but tomorrow is a bigger day. Tomorrow is your birthday. Your 30th birthday.
Damn you’re old.
It’s funny for me to think that I met you when you were only 22, freshly out of college, freshly out of a relationship and before you had even begun your medical school journey. We won’t even discuss the haircut. And here we are, almost 8 years later, a doctor and a pregnant graduate student, on the precipice of a totally new stage in our lives.
This year feels monumental in a bunch of different ways. I finish and graduate, you move into the final stage of your residency and of course, we’re going to have a baby. A son. Our son.
It just feels right that you get to start all of this in a new decade, like this year is your fresh start. And in many ways it already has been. You have been working so tremendously hard at work, both for your patients, but also to make positive changes in yourself and your work relationships. I have been so impressed by your commitment to do better and frustrated with you when not everyone sees how hard you’re working.
I feel like we have hit such a lovely rhythm as a couple, as a family. We are communicating better than we have in ages, we’re spending more time together, sharing more stories. I feel so content and safe in the life we have together, it just makes everything else seem easier too. I love nothing more than lazy weekends with you, watching movies and snuggling with our cats. I feel more at home with you than I ever have before.
I know we had both initially talked about how we secretly hoped the baby was a girl, but I can tell you now, I’m even more excited that he’s not. I’m so excited that our baby is a boy because I know that my son has the most outstanding role model anyone could ask for. I would be the luckiest mom in the world if our son grew up to be like you. Our child is already so very blessed to have you as a father. I have never doubted that you are going to be a great dad and I simply cannot wait to see you take on this new role.
As we wind down and head to bed on the eve of this big day, I just want to tell you how very loved you are. How much you have enhanced my life, my spirit. How much better I am for knowing you, for loving you and for being loved by you.
Happy birthday to you, my husband.
Wherever we’re together, that’s my home.
Photo courtesy of Heather
On Tuesdays and Thursdays at school, I park at parking meters. It’s only 4 dollars for 10 hours if I get there early enough to get the 10 hour ones, or it’s 8 bucks for 10 hours on the shorter term meters (plus an extra trip to the car to add more money). Either way, it’s pretty reasonable and they recently updated the meters to accept debit cards. Considering I’m only there 2 days a week, it’s way more reasonable than a parking pass would be.
A couple of times I’ve scheduled physical therapy during my lunch break, so I have to drive to the office and then find a new meter quickly to get back to class. So far I have not made it back to class on time after PT. I’m super good at planning.
But anyway, one of those times, I was rushing and found the very last open meter. I parked and put my debit card in, but it didn’t go in right. It kind of stuck. I could get the card all the way in and out, but not quick enough and it didn’t read it. I tried several more times because I feel like sometimes if you strong arm something, all the other stuff will magically change. This pretty much absolutely never works. And this was no exception.
After swearing a lot and trying several times, I gave up. I had about 3 dollars in change and I tossed that in the meter, knowing it wouldn’t get me to the end of the day, but hoping that maybe the meter maid would forget. Because they tend to do that. Never.
To my great surprise (not), I had a 58 dollar ticket when I got back to my car. Fifty eight freaking dollars for a 4 dollar meter. This is why I hate LA. But I had no other option and had to get to class. It is what it is. Note: I have yet to actually pay it yet. I like to get as close to it doubling as is humanly possible. Just to keep the city of LA on their toes.
Fast forward to last week. I barely made it to school on time thanks to traffic. Because we have 8am quizzes, there is literally no wiggle room when it comes to being on time. I found an open meter and put my card in and it was like a flashback. It would not read my card and again it almost got stuck. This was not the same meter and I just could not figure out what was going on. I fought with it for a minute, tossed two quarters in and went and took my quiz. This time I was able to go back down and move it to a working meter before the parking ticket fairy got to me.
A similar thing happened on Thursday. In a moment of frustration as I was again, moments from missing my quiz, I decided to try something totally novel. I turned my card the other way. Because I am basically a genius. And what do you know? It read it.
It turns out that none of the meters were broken. They were reading cards just fine, but when you try to slide the raised numbers in the slot, it almost gets stuck. And the strip that actually makes the card work? Yea, it’s the part that supposed to go in the slot. Go ahead and judge me, I would.
The best part is that I have a 58 dollar reminder of how entirely stupid I am, because I was likely to forget this. Thanks Los Angeles!
Three years ago, I married my best friend.
In all, it’s been almost exactly 7 years since we met, since that first feeling of butterflies in my stomach and nervousness when his phone number showed up on my phone. There are many days where I struggle to remember the days before him because that’s how much he has changed, improved my life.
He is the person I can be myself with. I’m not afraid to be weak or scared in front of him. He has seen me at my very worst, at rock bottom with a shovel, digging myself a deeper hole. He knows how I tick, he knows how to calm me, how to inspire and organize me. He knows me like no one has ever known me. And though he’d never admit it, I know him just the same.
My husband doesn’t let many people fully into his life. He puts on a show for others, he’s funny and goofy and almost never serious. People ask me how I can stand being with him all day because he just never turns off that personality for them. But that’s only one part of who he is, and though that part is fun, it’s not my favorite part of him. When it’s just the two of us he is often quiet, calm and almost always just showing his love. He will hold my hand while we’re watching tv or walking somewhere. He’ll rub my back when he knows I’m having trouble sleeping. He is extremely sensitive and though sometimes I tease him, I truly love that about him.
In some ways, we are so much alike. We like and hate many of the same foods, we agree on a lot of television, music, movies, etc. We are both extremely astute in the art of passive-aggression. In other ways, we could hardly be more opposite. He continues to be the epitome of a morning person, he is impossible to embarrass, he would nap every single day if given the opportunity and when he’s angry or upset, he gets really quiet.
But our biggest commonality is love. Before I met him, I didn’t believe love existed. I won’t pretend that it was love from the first minute I met him, but it did not take long. Within a few weeks, he had my heart and though he didn’t know it, he had my love. He was the very first and only boy I ever loved, and the love I felt and still feel for him is sometimes almost overwhelming. I cannot imagine my life without him in it and I really don’t want to. I know I nag him a lot (and to be fair, he is quite a competent nagger himself) and yes we argue from time to time, but love heals all.
Even though tomorrow is our anniversary, I won’t see him until Friday. I’ve heard that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but I find it makes mine grow weary. I crave his presence, his jovial noises and his warm body beside mine. Though I can survive alone, I feel incomplete without him. Like a small piece of my heart isn’t home and without it, without him, I don’t feel at home either.
I can’t find all the flowery words I want to use to say how much I love him and how grateful I am to have him in my life, but I came across a well known poem a few weeks ago and it captures exactly what I feel.
i carry your heart with me
i carry it in my heart
i am never without it
anywhere i go you go, my dear;
and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling
i fear no fate
for you are my fate, my sweet
i want no world
for beautiful you are my world, my true
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
here is the root of the root
and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart
i carry it in my heart
—-E. E. Cummings
Honey, I know you’re reading this and I just want you to know how very much I love you. These have been undoubtedly the greatest 7 years of my life because of your presence in them. I cannot imagine a future without you and I hope I never have to see one. Thank you for all that you do for me, for all that you do for us. And most of all, thank you for loving me. I am better for knowing and loving you.
Tomorrow, you turn 29. I know this because you have reminded me 20,000 times this week and also because I’m the one of us that doesn’t forget birthdays. When I met you you were only 22 years old, fresh out of college and with a classy little mullet. I can’t believe it’s been almost 7 years, I really can’t believe that you’re going to be 30 in 366 short days. Sometimes I forget just how much we’ve grown in our time together, sometimes I can hardly remember who I was before you came along.
Our marriage is far from perfect. A large number of people who witnessed our (quiet, civil) argument in the food court at Riverwalk last weekend can attest to that. But they can also attest to the fact that we fix the things that are broken and we move on, stronger, better and happier. We have grown so much and yet, we have so much living ahead of us.
In this last year before you turn 30, in this last year before we start down a new path together, there are things I want to give you, even if they aren’t mine to give.
I want to give you confidence. I want you to know that you are a great doctor, that you are a great husband and someday you will be a great father. I wish you could look in the mirror and see the man I see each day. I wish you could see how successful you are, sometimes in spite of yourself. I wish you could trust yourself, because you can do anything you put your mind to.
I want to give you strength. I know your job wears you down. I know you’re tired, I know you’re dealing with family things on top of work things on top of normal life stresses. I know you’re afraid you won’t make it through your residency, but you can. You will. You have the strength to do this, and when you feel like you don’t, you can lean on me. Together we’ll find a way, we are stronger together.
I want to give you love. Endless amazingly perfect love. I know that I don’t tell you often enough how much you mean to me, but I hope you never wonder how I feel. We joke a lot about things, but I love you, as you are, more than anything in the world. There is nothing in the world you could do to change that.
I want to give you happiness. I know you are afraid that you aren’t going to enjoy your job, when you finally get to do it. I know you are miserable as a pediatrician and I know you’re scared that the next residency will be equally frustrating and unfulfilling. And I know that there’s nothing I can do about that. But if you get through all your years of training and are unhappy, we’ll fix it. It’s never too late to do something that makes you happy. You taught me that, and just as you have supported my career change, I would support yours.
I want to give you the life you wanted and one you’ve earned with years of hard work and support for me and the other people you love. I wish it was a gift I could wrap up and let you open tomorrow. I can’t put it in a box, or put a bow on it, all I can do is make you a promise. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it’s what I have (besides an actual physical present, of course).
I promise to give you all the confidence, strength, love and happiness I can. I promise to do the best I can, by you, by us, for as long as I walk this earth. I promise to support you, unconditionally and love you even more. Through thick, thin and everything in between.
Even though you don’t show the real you to many people, I can promise you that the world is better for having you in it. Everyone who knows you, is better for it.
Happy 29th birthday to you, my beloved husband. I love you more than words can ever possibly convey.
I’m telling things a little out of order, both because I am too tired to think straight and because I want to. So there.
On Sunday afternoon, my husband and I had some time to kill and we found ourselves across the street from Central Park. So we started walking through the winter wonderland ahead of us.
We walked around snowy hills, around children sledding. We walked around snow drifts taller than our heads.
As we walked past an area of untouched fresh snow, I mentioned to Slappy that I secretly wanted to make snow angels. Because I’d never really made one. I’d never even really played in snow like that at all.
He told me to go play, but I said no. It seemed silly. I knew my clothes would get wet and I’d be cold and miserable for the rest of the evening. I am a grown up, I make grown up choices. And I decided I could enjoy the snow from the path.
Before I could say anything, Slappy cut in through a small opening in a gate into a field of untouched snow.
He threw his arms out
And he fell
And suddenly I just couldn’t be bothered to be an adult anymore. To worry anymore. I engaged in an epic snowball fight with my husband in the middle of a snowy field in Central Park.
And then I fell too.
And yes, my clothes and shoes got wet. And sure, I was a little cold. But I won’t remember that part. I won’t remember anything but that time I followed my husband into a quiet snowy wonderland, thew snowballs and made snow angels until I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. I’ll remember the time I seized a moment and turned it into a memory.
And how my heart felt whole once more.