A Blur

Graduation was a very sad day and week. We stayed with good friends. We had our families with us. And it was really sad to see our friends and say good-bye one...last...time.

When our friend Guy toasted to us he said, "Here's to the longest good-bye tour since the Rolling Stones." And he was right. All of those good-byes wore me out.

When it was time to go, Sumner laid on his friend Nikhil's couch in protest and asked me, once again, through his tears, "Why do we have to move?"

And I was asking myself the same thing. Our things were already in New Orleans. Our job contracts were signed and the house officially belonged to us. BUT...Why are we leaving my friends and community? Why am I starting over? How am I going to make it through medical residency without my medical wives trio? And it is so flat in New Orleans. Why do we have to move?

My friends were all around to let me vent and process each piece of leaving and starting over that was freaking me out. That helped. But it was a blur.

A blur of our friends' spare bedroom, futon, and air mattresses. A blur of late nights and early mornings and family meals and official events. Looking back it just seems like it went too fast. That week, those years.

I like what I learned and how we did it. In Boston I learned how to be a grown up. I learned how to take care of myself and my family a little bit better. I learned how to make space for me. I learned how to say no. I learned so much from my kids. I saw them "work through" so much stuff that we as humans have to figure out and I learned that we need to make room in our lives to "work through" things--otherwise we become programed humobots. I learned that I like to write and I want to take it more seriously. I learned that relying on God, praising Him for everyday and everything, praying a lot, and praying some more bring me peace and purpose and sustains me.

Like I said, it was a blur. But I like the colors I see.