Date: 2011-03-27
To: After the Party...
Miles today: 0.0

I¢m totally basking in the warmth, support, and love I felt today at my going-away party. I have the most amazing friends ever! I am so lucky. And even more importantly, I have the most amazing family ever! I am sitting here after my party, five days (in a minute it will technically be four days) prior to my trip, both basking in the after-glow and struggling with such a torn heart. I¢m excited, and I¢m scared. I am so happy to finally be doing something that I¢ve been toying with for a very long time, yet I feel this dreadful guilt for undertaking something so selfish. And no, this is no false show of humility; it¢s a fact: my undertaking is selfish...extremely so. I¢m the first to admit it. So many of you have congratulated me and expressed admiration for my undertaking, and I am grateful, but the truth is I am leaving my family for a somewhat extended period, and expecting them to do the things I used to do. Most significant is Pat and his sacrifice: He is losing a partner in the running of our household, in addition to continuing to attend to all of his current responsibilities. He¢s not only carrying me in the tasks that I won¢t be addressing by taking those on himself (delegate, darling), but he is also assuming even more: mail drops, communication, and behind-the-scenes coordination of my hike. Of course, once I leave, life around our house will actually probably be significantly simpler for Pat and everyone. No more of my crazy plans and goings-on for a little while. (Pat, I exasperate you but you¢ll miss me won¢t you, dear?) I think I tend to stir up an otherwise quiet household somewhat.? Ready to go... But really, I am feeling this wrenching guilt for going. This is my Jeremy¢s last year of school before college, and my Toby¢s first year of high school. My daughter has been through hell but is doing so beautifully, I can¢t even tell you how amazed I am. My son Ethan has joined the Marine Corps and doesn¢t live with us. Pat remains steadfast as our anchor in rough tides. And me? I think I¢m doing whatever it takes to keep my head above water, and I fear I am making my family pay the price. Is this my midlife crisis? I thought that was a guy thing. But actually, now that I think about it, maybe that is precisely what it is. I¢d been feeling somewhat adrift for several years. Something intangible was missing. I decided to go back to college, thinking it might help. And I loved it. I thought it might just be the ticket. But then suddenly we lost Aiden, and the world stopped spinning for a while and I gave up college. I gave up tennis. I gave up tae kwon do. I gave up. I struggled mightily. I sat outside on my balcony nightly and sobbed my heart out, and sang aloud to Aiden all of the songs I had sung to him since his birth. I went more than a little loony for a while. It was a dreadful time. I shudder to think of what some people must think of me after that time. I¢ve been slowly coming back, and I decided that, rather than let this catastrophe lay me low, I would use it to help spur me on to something new, something loftier. I realized that this is an opportunity to live my life more fully, more meaningfully, than before. Aiden was a wonderful gift in life, and with his passing, I realized that I haven¢t necessarily been making the most of the gift that is my own life. This trip, and the planning leading up to it, has been my turning point. I have a renewed hope in the future. I want to live more fully, because Aiden never had that opportunity. I want to love more fully, because tomorrow isn¢t a given. I could be gone, or those I love could be gone, and the only guarantee I have is today. I intend to head out into the great outdoors, focus on my own mental and physical healing, and return stronger than ever. And upon my return I hope to be a far better woman than the one who leaves. I believe the process has already begun.