Monday, September 15, 2008

*Insert Witty Yet Thoughtful Title Here*

Sometimes, when adult life gets too hard, I wish that I could go back to the more carefree days of being a young teenager; when the biggest drama is why so-and-so is flirting with so-and-so's boyfriend. To go back to when good grades were easy and I had time to fit TaeKwonDo into my life, and had my huge circle of friends that I could see nearly every single day. Back when my Grandma gave me piano lessons and I actually practiced and sounded so good, and Grandpa would listen from the other room as he sat in his chair.
Everyone always wished they could grow up: first there was the hurdle of getting your license so you were "free" to go where you pleased; then you turned eighteen and we officially an adult; you graduated from high school and started at college, supposedly knowing how you wanted your life to go. As an adult, things were going to be big and grand and amazing all the time. You'd have an awesome job and buy cool things with your money, and somewhere along the way you would fall in love and get married and have kids.
No one even mentioned that when you get old, so does everyone else.
Last September, within about a month's time, we lost my Grandpa, my Boppa, and our dog Rosie. My Grandpa had emphysema and it was a horrible, drawn-out process that absolutely reaffirmed my decision not to smoke. For Boppa, it was very sudden; he went from okay to bad off in nearly a week. Every time, we were heart broken.
Now my Grandma has been battling ovarian cancer for months. Five days ago she went into the hospital, and we are in a fugue state, not knowing if or when she will be able to come home.
Add to that normal family dramas--which have shot up exponentially lately--and overloaded school and work schedules, plus friend dramas (should be a soap opera, swear to god), and pet medical issues, all of which combine to make me crazy absentminded and tired, I am nearing meltdown.
And here's the kicker: I get home at 9:15pm from work, and Mom tells me that Nathan, my 10-but-11-really-soon year-old baby cousin Naters, went to the emergency room today for an appendicitis attack and is undergoing laprascopic surgery this very night.
I just really, really want everything to be okay.

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