We had so much fun being together at my niece's dental school graduation this weekend just past, and now it's back to the grind for all of us, including my niece, the new doctor, who will be moving to New York City next week to start her year-long residency in general dentistry.
I'm in a lull right now. One project that seemed promising has so far not panned out, and the other, which could absorb my attention for most of the rest of the year, is in standby mode, thoughts percolating about how to approach the story, random notes jotted down, but until I meet with the editor this week, I feel kind of stuck, not sure how to begin. The beginning is everything. Once I get started, the process gathers momentum, and carries me through till the work is done. It's the good side of my obsessive nature. But right now, I'm in that place of not knowing how I will pull this off, wondering if I am in over my head, knowing only that I'm committed now, and so I have no option but to find my way through. I'm scared, if you want to know the truth. I'm standing before a mountain, seeking the first foothold.
It's shaping up to be a busy month. In addition to last weekend's festivities, our choir has its three spring concerts coming up, and my daughter's boyfriend will graduate with his masters in engineering this weekend. There are other things going on, too: My cousin finished her last round of chemo and is on the mend in her cute blue beanie hat. She expected to bounce right up after treatment was done and is discovering that now she has to take some time to get her energy back. "When your hair grows back into a sweet little fro, then you'll be ready to resume life as usual," we decided based on no scientific evidence whatsoever. "In the meantime, take things slow."
I am so proud of her, the way she marched through this, never losing her ringing laugh, even though she was in the midst of moving from DC to Orlando when she was diagnosed last summer, in the midst of selling one house, and finding a new one for her family to live in, getting used to a new city, sending her two girls to college, and getting her husband settled in a new business (for which she does the books) all while undergoing surgery and chemo. She is my hero. Every time I think about her, I want to cry from sheer love and awe. She humbles me.