Tuesday, June 25, 2013


We made it through Mother’s Day.  It was better than I expected. I think having more than 6 month’s distance between now and my mother’s passing was helpful for that.  Also the anticipation of the next weekend was incredibly helpful.  I had accidentally found out that Sam was surprising me with a trip to KC for my birthday.  As a cover, he had suggested we go to Tulsa on Friday.  I got really excited about our Tulsa trip. I knew it was just for one night, so I started thinking about what we could do that would be fun and relaxing for Sam as his break between classes.  A few days later, I asked if I could plan our trip and book our hotel room.  He said no.  What?!  I was sure this was because of one night in KC where we were just looking for a cheap hotel to crash in for the night. I found one on Priceline and it was.... gross.  And scary.  

“Do you not trust me?  Is this because of that hotel in KC?”

He just sat there, eating his Taco Mayo and trying not to say something.  I assumed he was trying not to tell me he didn’t trust me.  It started out as joke, but I actually started getting mad.  He just kept shaking his head and not saying anything.  I kept pressing the issue.  After a while he finally let it spill.

“You can’t get our hotel room in Tulsa because I already got us one... in Kansas City...for your birthday.”  

He always tries to surprise me, but hates waiting, so he always tells me the secret or gives me the present early.  This time I ruined it. I felt awful, but also so excited!  A weekend in Kansas City with Sam was exactly what I needed.  And we had so much fun.  We got a good hotel room with air conditioning and cable (the two most important things in a hotel room) and we spent a good portion of our time just resting and relaxing.  We did a little shopping, went to the City Market (the coolest, giant farmers market I’ve ever been to), saw a movie, and ate good food.  It was so much fun.

And then the next semester started.  It didn’t seem too bad at first.  It was a lot of work, but Sam had some friends coming to hang out for the weekend, so he got it all done quickly.  He spent the weekend hanging out and playing games. I spent the weekend at dad’s house, making cakes for a friend’s wedding and hanging out with family.  By the time I got back, it was almost June.

June has been a fairly steady decline.  Sam’s current class is a 6-week class, with just as much work as a full-semester class. In the middle of studying for tests and cranking out multiple homeworks per week, Father’s Day snuck up on the both of us.  Neither of us expected it to be hard, but it was.  A few days before that Sunday, I’d gone to the store to buy cards for our dads.  Mixed in among the cards for fathers were a few cards for “fathers-to-be”.  I almost started crying in Walmart.  I wanted so badly to buy one of those cards for Sam.  I quickly picked out cards for dad and Phil and managed to leave without tears streaming down my face.  It hit Sam hard, too.  It always makes it both easier and harder for me to deal with all of this knowing that Sam also wants a baby--easier because I feel less alone in this and less like I’m going crazy, and harder because I hate to see him Sad and defeated.  And from that emotional weekend, we rolled into a week where Sam had 5 assignments due in one week, and this week, where he had a test yesterday and a final on Thursday.  He has done homework for around 8 hours a day for the past two weeks, just taking time to do his job at work and time to eat meals with me.  I’ve been working to make sure he doesn’t have to do anything else on top of all of that.  We are both exhausted and drained.  

I went for a walk on Sunday night, on a particularly difficult and draining day.  I didn’t get out until the sun was setting, which made for a very nice, not overly hot walk.  On our way back, it was getting dark.  A spark of light caught my eye.  It flashed again a few seconds later.  Fireflies.  They are one of my favorite things about living here.  I smiled.  It lit up again.  

I love how even on the dark days (or weeks, or years), there are small flashes of light.