old (2009)

thoughts while watching ‘bones’ on dvd

Today’s been quite an emotional one. On one level, it’s been fabulous. JS and I threw a graduation party for me today, which was well attended, and I received a number of thoughtful gifts, including a beautiful handmade apron (and I’ve been searching high and low for a perfect one for months). Most of the 96 vegan cupcakes and 54 vegan brownies (all of which I made yesterday, in a marathon baking session) were devoured, and the caterer’s beverages were delightful, albeit overpriced. So why did I find myself sobbing on my bathroom floor while the boys ate dinner tonight? Good question.

It could be related to the letter I received from The Philosopher (I told him I won’t send or receive emails to him anymore, since it prolongs our discussions, and so he’s resorted to writing me letters!) outlining his specific reasons for wanting to take the boys and move to the suburbs (moreso because I am tired of struggling with him, and I don’t know whether to keep fighting or let him “win”). Or it could be that I’m walking across the stage at UIC Pavilion tomorrow morning in front of thousands of people — I’ve never walked before, and this is probably the last chance I’ll have (with one BA and two MAs, I’m a little schooled out). Maybe it’s related to doing that all on Mother’s Day when I already feel so deflated as a mom. But mostly I think it’s all of those things combined with the fact that (a) I miss my grandmother deeply and immensely and (b) it’s been nine months since I’ve been to New York City — the longest stretch of time I’ve spent away from Manhattan since my first visit there in 2006.

The remedies? First, after graduation and brunch at Karyn’s Cooked tomorrow, JS and I are going with the boys to my grandmother’s cemetery (and then to the one in which his mother is buried, only about two miles away from where my grandmother is). And this week? I’m researching my next trip to NYC. I know JS and I are planning on going in June, but I don’t know if I can wait that long. I might have to escape sooner. Much sooner. As in: next weekend, or the one after. I don’t know if it’s a solution to any of the above angst — and I’m fairly certain it won’t alleviate the situation with The Philosopher in the least — but at least I’ll be carefree and happy for 48 hours.