Friday, April 5, 2013

all is well



Today is Sam's birthday. Seventeen years since I pushed all 10+ pounds of that adorable, little bundle of joy out, late on a Friday night similar to this one. It seems like yesterday, but in so many ways, if feels like ages.

When I asked him what he'd like for his breakfast, he was very specific. His answer surprised me, as sweet cereal has been the favored breakfast request by most of the kids for a few years now. (It's a rare treat around these parts.) He said he wanted bacon and white flour pancakes. I said okay. 

I'll tell you that I haven't cooked bacon in years. Years. I couldn't believe how thoughts of campfire and camping and my own childhood came flooding back when I stood at the stove this morning and fried it up. When you don't smell something for a long time, and then you do, it's interesting how vivid and powerful long ago memories and associations can be brought to the surface. Along those lines, we all gathered tonight at the local meaty barbecue joint and later he blew out the candles on top of a store-bought cheesecake (more requests of his) to celebrate and mark the special day.
What this mother-heart will do in the name of love...

I think I'm in blossom heaven. You probably can tell.

Every time I think of Jane... her separation from me... my heart hurts. I think I've eaten 10 pounds of leftover cookies and Cadbury Easter eggs since Sunday. Self control gone right out the window. That Wednesday night I dragged myself to school. In that night's anatomy lecture, my instructor mentioned something about french fries in an analogy to something related to the nervous system. (Don't ask. I have no idea what that was all about.) I tried to focus on the rest of the lecture, but I couldn't get my mind off the idea of some hot, salty, comforting french fries. So during the next fifteen minute break, I hightailed it over to the restaurant next door and ordered myself a side. I plopped myself down, alone in a corner booth, drowning my sorrows with that pile of fries and ketchup glob. It's been months and months since I've had a real, fast food french fry, people. (Sweet potato fries are a different story altogether...)

Oh, and that sorry Wednesday afternoon, just when I thought I had it all together, I look out the window and see the UPS truck pull up and the brown  uniformed woman walk across the lawn and drop two long boxes on the front porch. More heaving sobs spilling as I read those sweet words on the cards, took out the two vases of beautiful flowers, and saw the red ribboned boxes of chocolates. How did I ever deserve such a thoughtful friend?

 You should have seen the smile on my face when this little email popped up on the screen Thursday morning:


 
Mom,
 
I don't have a lot of time. This is just an email we can write today to give you an update on how we are doing. I am doing very well. I had the best day yesterday, seeing so many people I know in the MTC. I met my companion who's name is Sister Wray... She is a very sweet, happy girl. I am so happy, so full of energy...  I feel a great sense of the spirit... I will write more later.
 
I love you.
 
Zaijian!
Zhao Jie Mie
 
 
All is well.
(Mostly)
 
 


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