In other words, I get it. I understand that you can't plan everything to the letter and expect it all to go off without a hitch. I've gotten that lesson in spades by now and I think I'm learning to roll with what comes.
The thought that this is all preparing me for something bigger kind of makes my head hurt because I don't like it when plans go awry, but I'm trying to accept it.
Recently, my family had plans. My sister had plans for a great summer with her family, enjoying the pool with her kids and doing what she loves, running. Instead she had to have shoulder surgery after being injured by a student at the school where she works. She's coping with a lot of grief in this situation, she is grieving her summer of carefree fun, her ability to be independent, her feeling of safety at work, her feeling of value from a certain co-worker, and more. I can't begin to tell you how frustrated and upset I've been on her behalf, but that doesn't begin to cover what she's been feeling.
I tell you this because a couple of weeks ago, we had a big family vacation. We do it every year, my sister and her family, my Dad and sometimes his fiance (she couldn't come this year) and my family. This year, my sister had to sit in a therapy chair that did PT on her arm 3 hours a day while hooked to a tins unit. This year, she had to ask me to put her hair in a ponytail, she couldn't hold her nephew other than posing for pictures, and she couldn't play with her children. Maybe the Universe is taking her to school too, but I it sucks for her! Because on top of that, we had an earthquake that shook the condo we rented and left us scrambling to get in touch with friends and family that were in the area where the quake hit. Because if we felt it at the beach in North Carolina, we couldn't imagine what it was like where the quake was centered. Thankfully, we reached everyone in great shape.
Kemper was great when we arrived, but no sooner had we unpacked he started getting sick. He was congested and vomiting without a fever. We treated him over the counter, but I have to admit, I was so happy it wasn't our carpet he was anointing, because it was nearly constant. He improved over a couple of days, but we were new parent train wrecks. Do we take him home to his pediatrician? Do we wait it out? We worried, fretted, took it easy with him, and worried some more. Then all of a sudden, he improved to the point we thought we could just relax for the rest of the week.
Then... Irene caused some issues. We had to end our vacation early because the island we were on was under mandatory evacuation orders. My husband went home to our dogs and house, which was just out of the projected path of the hurricane, and I took Kemper and fled inland to a motel room. I spent two nights there wondering if my husband and home and dogs were ok while trying to keep up with what the storm was doing.
Walking in the front door was so very sweet it competed with my return after seven weeks at Duke. Home. Ah.... a breather. Then full force sick baby again. He's been back to the doctor and had an Upper GI which of course, I have to wait through the holiday weekend for results. Of course.
So in my defense, I'm trying really hard to roll with the punches and continue to throw the plan out the window, but it's not easy. So not easy.