The Water Under The Bridge

 Herself speaks.

I was thinking about the forthcoming college reunion, as well as the time that has passed since Beloved Husband's last college reunion five years ago. There has been a lot of metaphorical water under the bridge since then. 

There have been some very good moments:  succeeding at The Task; adopting New Old Dog; the occasional excursion for hiking and camping; climbing Guadalupe Peak with Beloved Husband; having local adventures; the few months that Cherished Friend lived here with us; two trips to Oceanside. Good Times. 

There have been some Big Changes family-wise:  Offspring the Second graduating from college (well done!), returning home, working hard, formulating his plan, and leaving home (bravo!); Offspring the First taking care of herself, deciding to make some brave changes in her life (brava!) and coming home; and Offspring the Third graduating from college (congratulations!) and returning home to find a job and work hard (good job!). While those parts of the story belong to the Offspring, I have been here on the periphery, occasionally involved, willing things to go well, and playing the role of Supportive Parent-of-Adults as best I can. 

The Pandemic. That has been Terrible. For many reasons. On and on and on it goes. 

Cherished Friend leaving for Oceanside -- that event goes in a category by itself, for how do you explain the impact of having such a Friend move so far away? (And during the Pandemic, too.) There aren't words to describe. It was a Turning Point, and a hard one. Even change that is good (see, e.g., the Big Changes for the Offspring), can be hard. 

Health has been... complex, too: the third MOHS surgery (and subsequent revision); the ongoing, only-semi-successful battle to get the chronic migraine situation under control; the minor but horrid gynecological surgery that, while successful, has left me eight months later with the distinct impression that pants are not my friend; and the very challenging and seemingly-impossible task of shedding a few pounds. Oh, and the macroaneurysms in my eyeballs. Mustn't forget the latest wrinkle in midlife body issues.  

And then - the Losses. So many losses:  

Three very fine small dogs - Tio, Chico Hank, and beloved Tiny Dog. 

My lovely father in law. 

My Daddy. 

It's a lot. 

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As much as I might like seeing people from Days of Yore at the Reunion, the weight of the past five years is very heavy right now. I am not sure I will be able to put it down sufficiently to enjoy myself.

Maybe I should get up in the very wee hours during Reunions, and take a walk across campus. The green, the quiet, the squirrels, the birds in the trees -- perhaps that will be enough to transport me to a different time, when my biggest worry was getting my homework done, when grief did not yet walk with me. When necessary solitude was not because my people were too busy or had left, but because I had not yet found my people, and I was full of optimism and hope. 

To recapture that, for a few moments, would be marvelous.