Today has been a tough day. I knew to expect certain things, but others were a curve ball that I didn't see coming. I awoke with a headache, which was with me for most of the day. I'm sure the events of the day didn't help.
At church this morning, a visiting ministry team performed a skit in which a husband and wife receive the news that they've had a failed adoption. Dramatic skits are normally a little overdone, but this took the cake. I felt my face get hot and seriously considered finding the nearest exit. Instead, I sat and squirmed in my seat, focusing hard staying calm. It was a little too ridiculous for a short paragraph in one post, but I want to come back to this later. It had to have been in the top five most uncomfortable moments in church I've ever had... including many painful childless Mother's Days.
We rushed home for a quick lunch, and then shortly after, I was off to a bridal shower for my sister. It's an exciting time for her, and I will be ever so delighted when all the wedding festivities are over by this time next week... but the realization is hitting me that she is moving away, and not just for the school year at college. Out of the three girls in our family, I am the only one who is living near our parents. One sister lives almost six hours away, and the other will soon be living almost four hours away. And I am here. Alone. And, as in the case of recent months, the one who is daily confronted with our father's potentially terminal illness. (Though we've gotten more good reports than bad as of late, which we're thankful for.) I know we all love our parents equally, but I feel like the brunt of the responsibility falls on me, not only as the oldest, but also as the only local one. There's also be no more last minute shopping trips, Starbucks visits, or lazy afternoons spent at my house together. It will be different now, and though it's obviously a wonderful time in her life, and I couldn't be happier for her... I feel, well, sad for myself in a way. It's the end of an era in some sense.
I came home from the shower to meet two very nice people who drove over an hour to visit us today... for the purpose of taking our dog home with them. We've had our dog for more than four years. He will be seven years old on Saturday. He was part of our family long before we ever got our infertility diagnosis or had adoption on the radar screen. He was my baby when I had none. And while I still love him, he's had a difficult time adjusting the past (almost) two years to sharing the spotlight with Sassy. He's not good at playing second fiddle, and it's been showing more and more in his behavior. We've talked about this and debated (postponed?) it for months, but as he began to show signs of mildly aggressive behavior toward our daughter, we knew it was the choice that had to be made. We were so fortunate to find family members of our neighbors who were so excited and thrilled to be taking him home with them. He'll have more land to run than he knows what to do with -- more than he's EVER had before in his life -- and plenty of love and all of the attention. Many reasons made this the best decision... but I still cried when he left, and off and on all evening. I know it's the best decision, but it was harder than I expected it to be.
It's been a tough day. I'm so ready to go curl up in bed next to my husband, probably cry a bit more, and have a good night's sleep. It's a busy week ahead, and I need all the energy I can get.