Life.

Has it really been eighteen days since I last posted?

I'll start to update you on my life with a list 

of the great things that have been happening:

- lots of swimming in our pool

because on a hot day, nothing's better 

than floating around on a couple noodles

- a day trip to Lake Michigan, 

where I got roasted by the sun

- a day trip to Michigan's Adventure,

where I was stupid enough to ride

the tilt-a-whirl, which took me out of the game

for the rest of the day

- a day trip to the Toledo Zoo,

where we saw pretty awesome 

Hippos, but failed to go into the aviary,

which is my favorite thing at zoos

(it was the last building

we happened upon, and by then

everyone wanted to leave)

- a day off to run errands together

and have a cute little pie date

My life has been beyond fantastic and almost magical 

the last week or so, because I've been allowed

to spend time with so many of the people I adore and love,

but yesterday, after such a great week or so,

my husbands' family got hit pretty hard.

Not only did his great grandmother pass,

but his dear friend Sean, who served as best man at our wedding,

was admitted into the hospital with severe pneumonia,

his grandmother is in the hospital,

and my sister-in-law is in Tennessee until Saturday, 

visiting her boyfriend's grandmother

who suffered a seizure and two strokes yesterday.

Unfortunately for the people suffering around me,

I'm not a person who can express grief & anger through tears,

so when I see those around me crying in a hospital room,

in the car, at a funeral, I feel very uncomfortable,

(the thought of someone who is crying touching me is even worse) 

because it feels out of place, and wrong.

I'm a happy crier -- 

when I cry, it's because I'm experiencing irrepressible joy.

I spend my tears on things like the birth of a child,

acts of love (see: marriage) , and acts of patriotism

(nothing in this world gets me to bawl like a baby like The Patriot),

so in this time, when the family that surrounds me needs me,

I really hope they can accept my dry eyes for what they are:

an island of dry, solid ground in an ocean of tears.

(I'm not one for prayer,

but if you pray, in any way,

and wouldn't mind,

pray for my husband's family -

they could really use it)