Thursday, April 24, 2014

I was going to

I was going to write about how I've been following through on my New Year resolution to read more.  Not lots, just more.  I've no less than a stack of parenting self-help books on my night stand on any given day and my ward's monthly book group has helped me supplement with a broader genre of novels.

I was also going to narrate more of our recent-ish travels, meaning anything within the past six months, before I forget how much I loved Turkey, New York, and New Orleans.

Then I was going to share how delightfully verbose little Mill is becoming.  (She's fiercely loyal to her besties, Claire and Olive ("Cleh and Ovuh"), and yesterday I discovered her on the counter, stuffing canned olives into her mouth and declaring unrepentantly, "me taking many ovuh."  Now if only she can only find some best friends named Mushroom and Cauliflower...)

I might've even gotten around to writing about the wonderful Easter weekend we enjoyed with Keesaw.

And lest we forget, tomorrow's the day we celebrate the love of my life.  I would've wrapped up with a heartfelt tribute to the many wonders of being wed to such a man.

That's what I was going to write about.  But today Kyle's mom is in the hospital having some heart problems.  And today my mom found out she has two new tumors.  And today I have a dear friend who is struggling in her marriage.  And today the kids' guinea pig died.

Yep, they bought her with their own money, searching for the perfect piggie on craiglist every day for weeks.  She only made it two weeks in our home before she deserted us, just like Midnight before her.  Only this time we suspect blunt trauma.  There were too many people over for us to understand what happened or who was responsible.  Could've easily been one of our kids' carelessness.  The pain is visceral, though.  And it's only a faint shadow of the grief that will overcome us if any of our family members ever dares to desert us.

Overall, this is good for me.  I need to suffer more.  My life has been too easy, and I feel badly about that.  If difficulties must arise, though, please just let them be mine alone.  Is that too much to ask?