It’s been almost 2 weeks since Halloween and I can finally breathe. The final tally:
Junior had 1 parade and 3 parties to attend. Diva had 1 parade and 4 parties to attend. Oh, and they both trick-or-treated, of course. He had only one costume, a paper one at that, which survived the intermittent rain on Halloween. She had 4 costume changes, the most important being the one I made for her. Candy has been sorted, consumed, given to Dad to bring to work, and put aside for the school collection involving sending some overseas to the soldiers.
Then my husband went to the hospital for elective brain surgery. And, despite his convictions that the removed growth and operation would either A) kill him, or B) render him with fewer brain cells than he had before, all seems to be well. Except for a few staples in his head (the kids & I think they look cool, he, understandably, disagrees) and some barbaric memories of the procedure, he’s fine.
Now we’re gearing up for Thanksgiving at our house. Then Chanukah. Then Christmas. Then New Year’s.
I’m not complaining, just breathing.
Many years ago I volunteered for a hospice. I participated in 6 weeks of intense training regarding religious beliefs about death, rituals, and the physical symptoms of a patient’s impending end of life. And, boy, did I get perspective.
People in nursing homes, people whose lives have been shattered by tragedy – would give ANYTHING for the normal, albeit hectic, life I’m living.
So much to be grateful for. Now, mom, breathe…..