Thursday, March 26, 2015

Time to write.

It's time.
Maybe it has been time for a while now, and I was just ignoring it.  

But I am finally at a place, again, in my life where I feel like I can write.  The words of e.e. cummings sum up my writing experience over the last two years (I know this is grossly out of context, being a love poem, but the words speak so clearly of my other experiences):

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
Our journey through P.A. school (which felt more like white river rafting on a pool noodle than just a simple journey) has finally come to an end.  And all of the things that I kept inside are ready to be let out. Well... maybe not all.

For the past few years as we have struggled to make this leap between careers, starting with pre-reqs, rejection, night shifts, and acceptance I have felt so weak in so many ways.  I felt like the "most frail gesture" could enclose me.  Even suffocate me. It has been an extremely vulnerable time for me.  After surviving the heartbreak (and sometimes anger) of rejection I felt like I was already cut wide open.  There was no hiding from it.  Our friends, our family, coworkers, and even some strangers knew of the struggle it was to get in to P.A. school. I knew there was judgement.  I knew that many others thought he couldn't do it. Some people even tried to persuade JT to choose a different path "maybe this just isn't for you".  (And if you have ever seen JT at work, or anyone who works with him you would know just how funny, and ridiculous that was.  Medicine is definitely for him.) Somehow, at the time, I was able to embrace the vulnerability, even write about.  Writing actually became therapeutic for me. I discovered an outlet that could carry me through. 

But as we came closer to actually going to PA school, and our world tipped upside down, writing began to haunt me.  The struggles that came from leaving our home and surviving the all night studying, and long distance rotations suddenly became way too close. Things that "i cannot touch because they are too near".  Suddenly, my struggles were far too personal to share in writing. The words stung even more when given life through text.  It was easier to deny and survive, when they were not public. It is, however, one of my biggest regrets that I didn't keep a personal journal at the time.  But even in secret, writing became unbearable. There was no escaping my heartache once it was put on paper. Has anyone else felt this?  I lost a place of refuge, probably when I needed it the most.   

Now, it has been almost 6 months since JT graduated with his masters as a Physician's Assistant. And the emotions from that phase in my life are starting to fade.  I am finally starting to believe that it is all real.   And the need to write is growing. 

Lately I have come in contact with a number of books, movies, and people that have reminded me of the importance of creativity in my life.  And the shambles I become in it's absence. With JT graduated from school, and stability on the horizon, I feel like maybe it is time for me. 

Time for me to breathe.
Time for me to write.
Time for me to create.

Sunday, March 8, 2015


Before all of you snobby English Majors freak out about my misuse of accept/except, hear me out.

I have been waiting YEARS to write this post.  I have written, and rewritten it a thousand times in my head.  "JT graduated!" or "JT is officially a PA" or "I can shop at Target again without freaking out about going over my budget".  There are a million different posts I have thought about writing.  I had no idea that I would end up writing about "Exceptance".

After a month of back and forth between a few different medical Groups in Las Vegas, JT has finally officially ACCEPTED an offer!  It is crazy to be on the other side of the acceptance spectrum.  We spent a few years filling out applications and praying for acceptance into PA school.  We cried with joy when we were accepted to UW's MEDEX program. It was a wonderful relief to finally be accepted.  I hadn't really thought about when we would be on this end of it.  I hadn't thought about how we would be sifting through offers for jobs and that it would be us making the choice.  And JT's approval and acceptance would finally be the one that matters.

So here we are.  We have accepted the offer that we felt was best.  The only problem is all of the exceptance I feel.

I accept the idea of having a new home, with a pool, in the sunshine.
Except, I am sad to leave behind the smell of fall and the changing of the seasons.  As much as I can't stand the gloom of Seattle, I love the green. I am tired of the eager, stressed out reaction I have to a sunny day.  I abandon all of my indoor responsibilities, and become reckless in my need to soak up every last drop of daylight because "who knows when we will have another day like this?"

I happily accept the idea of going on a new adventure.  I have been craving a change of scenery for years.  I have been wishing for a home where the sun shines often, with new faces, new roads, and new surprises.
Except, I am sure I will miss the familiarity of the place I grew up.  I know the ins and outs, I know the people, I know what to expect.

I am excited to accept the new relationships and stronger relationships I will build.  We will be moving closer to two of JT's brothers.  One of which, we haven't lived by for years.  I am excited to be close to him and his family. I am excited to have a new stronger relationship with my sister in law.  And to be close to his other brother and family as well.
Except, I have to leave the family here that I love.  My kids LOVE their cousins.  It is a friendship much deeper and more special than they have with most of their friends.  I look up to my brother in law and sister in law for so much help and direction.  And when my sisters come to get their hair done we laugh like only sisters can.  We have family parties, Christmas, 4th of July, Halloween, Holidays that have been built around family.  I am so sad to leave them.

So for all of the things we accepted when we agreed to the job in Las Vegas, there have been an equal amount of exceptance to go along with it.

Here's to a New Adventure! (And a new word that I just made up "exceptance" that will probably go viral.)

UPDATE: Apparently I never hit "post" when I wrote this.  We are now (March) living in Las Vegas, and don't have a pool.  Apparently not every home is built with a cascading waterfall into a giant clear blue pool.  My mistake.