Seventeen Months

It's the end of the school year.  This is one of the most stressful times of the year for teachers.  We are tired and overworked and for some reason, parents and students are just now recognizing grades and demanding that they be allowed to do anything and everything to improve those grades.

This is also the time of year where we see the end in sight.  This is when Jeff and I would be planning something fun.  He would usually take a week off of work while I was on summer break and we would usually start planning all of the fantastic places we would be eating, since our lives focused mainly on food and enjoying it together. 

I am happy for the summer to come but it also makes me a little sad that I will not have him to share it with.

I hope he approves of all of the changes I have made this year without him. 

I hope he is with me in both my good moments and bad. 

I hope he is happy and pain free. 

And most of all, I hope he knows that I love him dearly and always will.

Expectations and Disappointment

Expectation is defined as:

1. To look forward to the probable occurrence or appearance of

2. To consider as reasonable, due, or justified
 
Disappointment is defined as:

1. To fail to satisfy the hope, desire, or expectation of.

2. To frustrate or thwart

Here's the problem with having high expectations; you will inevitably be disappointed.  I've been struggling with the idea of having high expectations for and in my life and then being utterly disappointed sometimes.  

This is something that I've thought about a lot this past week or so.  When I'm feeling down because I've been disappointed, I think that I should lower my expectations or have no expectations at all, which would then lesson the disappointment I feel when my expectations are not met.  

But then I always go back to what my life would be like if I didn't have high expectations:

Would I have gotten my masters degree and be in a fantastic career and my dream school if I had little or no expectations?  

Would I have gone out on my own and bought my own home in a fantastic neighborhood if I had low or no expectations?  

Would I be with a loser of a man who may have lived longer than Jeff but would have never made me as happy as Jeff did, even in the short amount of time I had with him, if I didn't have high expectations?

So even with all of the disappointment I feel sometimes when my high expectations for others, myself, and my life are not met, I still feel it's a better way to live than having low or no expectations.  With the lows, I also experience the highs when my expectations are met.

Looking back, I'm glad I have had high expectations in my life and, looking forward, even with the inevitable disappointment looming, I will continue to have high expectations.

Another Guilt Monster Attack or Just Plain Old Grief?

I'm leaving for a girls trip today to Palm Springs for a little weekend away.  I was packing last night and tucked away in the corner of my closet is a shoebox where I keep all of the cards that Jeff and I gave each other throughout our ten years together.  I just couldn't help but pull it out and start reading. 

I made it through all of the cards I had given him, remembering how quick I was in the beginning of our relationship to express how much he meant to me and how much I loved him.  I was proud of myself for being that open and vulnerable.

But then I read the first card from him and started bawling.  You know, the really ugly, snotty, blubbering, can't-catch-your-breath kind of sobs?

There's just something about packing to go on a trip now that gets me.  I went on plenty of girls' trips while Jeff and I were together so it's not that we never traveled apart, actually, I traveled more without him than I did with him.

I just miss him.  I miss asking him if I should take this or that.  I miss him being there when I got home from the trip and asking me what kind of shenanigans all the girls got into.  I miss his love and comfort knowing he was there at home.  He was my home.

I'm not sure if I should call this a guilt monster attack or just chock it up to plain old grief.  I guess it doesn't really matter.

I'm tired this morning but am ready to relax and enjoy my friends this weekend.  I don't have any anxiety or tension, just a calm, slightly sad feeling.

I compare a good cry to a rainy day in San Diego.  They are rare but when they come, they wash away a lot of crap and things feel refreshed and clean once they clear up.

Here I come Palm Springs!