When I can have a life again
- Say goodbye to LSM for now (tomorrow)
- Treat myself to a spa pedicure
- Make summer reading list
- Read books on aforementioned list
- Clean out room and redecorate
- Sit at Starbucks and brainstorm for summer project
- Spend time with people I care about :)
On Saturday morning two weeks ago, I was woken up to my parents’ lively chatter on their way in from the airport. It was a strangely wonderful sensation; I was consciously aware of the fact that I was pulled out of sleep 5 minutes too soon by my parents’ voices, and I was neither cranky nor annoyed.
My mom usually gets the teapot going on the stove, then comes upstairs to change. In the meantime, my dad comes into my room, makes a comment about how my foot is sticking out from under the blanket, then gives me a kiss on my forehead. The truth is, I always pretend to be asleep when he does this, and only after he leaves my room do I flip over onto my stomach and smile into my pillow. This is always something I anticipate the night before my dad comes home as I fall asleep wondering about what state he would be flying over at that moment.
When my dad comes home, he usually comes for only a few days. He tries to come at least 4 times a year, but depending on his work schedule, it doesn’t always work out that way. He’ll usually call and say, “I can’t make it this time, but that means I can stay longer for Christmas.”
This Father’s Day, I was secretly jealous of all the families who were able to celebrate the day together. I was bitter that I wasn’t able to give my dad a hug and express my gratitude for all that he’s sacrificed for our family, and for always standing up for me. I was bitter that the time I could spend with him was limited to only a few days at a time. I was frustrated at myself for feeling bitter over something that I should be used to by now, but yesterday in particular, the bitterness seemed to remain longer than usual.
Of course, I know better. In the grand scheme of things, I still have a loving father who is my number one fan and loves to take candid snapshots of our family during our weirdest moments. And that’s what really matters, I know. But I guess it’s the little things I miss about him—his goofiness, gestures, and even his more serious tones and manners.
All my bitterness aside, a phone call was enough. When I called him, he was happy to hear my voice and understood that my words were genuine, even without a hug. And I guess that’s what I needed.
Seed
An idea for a new summer project is creeping up into my mind. Pretty excited and nervous to get started.
oh, just a fond memory
289…
…hours spent volunteering at the hospital. God… has this way of doing things that doesn’t makes sense but actually makes perfect sense at the same time. And my experiences at the hospital were like that. It confused and amazed me both, but I’m so thankful that He encouraged me to go along with it. Glory and honor to Him who is always faithful.
