All My Loose Ends

Dear 2005,

In two days, you shall be no more. I for one, will not personally be sorry to see you depart. I'm looking forward to little baby new year, dpey hat and all.

Frankly, 2005, you've been sort of a bitch. In retrospect, this has been the toughest year we've passed in our history. Shall we recap?

1) Mom's tumor reoccurs in Jan. prompting another surgery
2) Our paycheck bounces in Febuary starting a year's worth of money and pay woes
3) Our tenant defaults on our agreement on the house in Lakemoor and goes 30 days late on the mortgage causing us to claim the house back and become landlords, something we never wanted to do
4) Find out we're pregnant on St. Patty's day, only to lose the baby in emergency surgery weeks later that took part of my reproductive system as well
5) Mom's tumor comes back again--more chemo, new doctors, more worries
6)Eric has to look for a job
7) Emily breaks her arm
8) Eric takes a job in Illinois and is gone the bulk of the week
9) I decide I've been bored and end up with anxiety disorder and probably a host of other things
10) Christmas came and went, but my spirit never arrived

So, 2005, as you can see, those tings, personally, coupled with hurricanes, wars and rising gas prices makes me more than happy to bid you adieu.

Oh yeah, and we had to cancel our Disney trip too.

That's number 11.

So, please, hurry off. Normally I mourn the passing of the years. It means my baby grows up and my parents grow older and times slips further through my fingers, but this year, slip away, man, I've had enough of you. So take the bad ju-ju or whatever the heck else you rained down on our heads and go head to where you go.

To 2006: We look forward to you with hope for healing and health and friends and family.

Happy New Year to all.

Here is my confession...

Tonight, I dish.

The idea that we will be moving back to Illinois seems to becoming clearer and clearer as time passes. The only thing we’re missing is a when and how. I feel horribly guilty for just wanting this thing to come to an end as I feel, in my heart, that end will be back in Lakemoor, in Illinois, away from my mom and my dad and the sibs.

I feel guilty because I want it to resolve quickly. I want to be done with where we are right now.

Mom asks, “Are you actually looking for work in Michigan?”

Yes. Of course we are. But, we have two problems here. 1) needing a job making more money than we’d need in IL because of the house thing and 2) no one wants to talk to us here. Eric has called and called. Left e-mails. Sent resumes, done everything but sat on desks and refused to budge. The interest isn’t there and that makes it hard.

Really hard.

You can’t make someone like you. Don’t I wish you could?

I gotta tell you folks, I’m exhausted. I don’t have any other way to put it.

I’m tired of worrying about money.
I’m tired of Eric begging for his paycheck (or feeling like he had to)
I’m tired of feeling like we’re drowning with this business and no one is ever going to throw out the life ring.
I’m tired of having my hair fall out.
I’m tired of panic attacks.
I’m tired of my heart beating out of my chest nearly ever day, to the point that my chest muscles hurt from it.
I’m tired of being short and cranky with the boy and my girl from the stress.
I’m tired of the fact that the relaxed ease Eric and I have in our marriage is so rare that it sticks out like a store thumb when we finally find it.
I’m tired that Eric and Emily’s connection has suffered so deeply this year, that they fight like cats and dogs. Constantly.
I’m tired of being mad at my good friend for, mostly, a lack of grace.
I’m tired of being scattered, moody, weepy, short, irritated and sarcastic, all of which come with my stress level.

I don’t want to leave my family. I don’t want them to feel like I’ve abandoned them or chosen a job or money or a house over them. I would never do that, which is where my guilt comes in. Eric has a second interview on Wednesday. He’s meeting with the president of the company. Presidents of companies don’t usually meet with engineers. It’s not done. Eric is confident. I want it to happen, but I feel guilty being hopeful.

I’m afraid of being selfish. I’m afraid wanting this end is selfishness. I know in my heart that the three of us can’t withstand another year like we’ve just had and probably not another six months. I can’t put it into words because it hurts too much. I can’t manage to say to my parents, I want to stay with you, but I want to be married to my sweetheart forever more than that. At different intervals this year, the d-word has crept into our consciousness, mine and Eric’s. Not as something we wanted, but as something we feared if we couldn’t fix us. We admit it, fearfully, to each other and get quiet. I cry. We don’t want it, but I think we both felt it creeping around our perimeter—like the Ghost of Christmas future warning Scrooge about what WOULD be if he didn’t stop being a cheep, greedy prick.

It comes down to so much more than a paycheck and a house and a location. It comes down to us. About each of us being the kind of spouse we want to be and Eric wanting to be the kind of father he wants to be and how hard that conflicts with me being the kind of daughter I want to be.

When I feel logical and in control, I realize that I am not going to be able to fix all of my problems. I feel selfish for choosing any over others. I feel like I can't win.

I know, once the initial sadness of the move (if it happens) passes, we'll be okay. we'll come visit. We'll fly. We'll take the train (very economical). We've talked to Eric's family about providing us with help so I could still come out when my family needs me and they've agreed to do all that they can.

It's just hard.