I don't have a lot to say tonight. It's a few minutes until Halloween/Reformation Day. I just got done going to 2 parties. I am still dresses as a poison fairy, although I took my wings off. I have a lot to do tomorrow.
But for right now, for another few minutes, it's still October 30th, and ten years ago today my grandfather George Albert Foutz passed away.
I am not going to describe the night to you. I won't elaborate on the tremor in my rib cage that climbed out of my throat and launched into someone else's chest with sobs and screams. I won't talk about the funeral or how I talked to him for months afterward.
Just know that he was a beloved man. He had a handlebar mustache. He loved dachshunds, banana peppers, making sandwiches with leftover pancakes, and had the best cinnamon roll recipe. He was deeply in love with his wife Virginia, and they were married for over 50 years. He took care of her until the day he died.
It's hard to honor someone with just a blog. So I won't try too hard. He's honored in my heart, and with my life.
I love you, Grandpa.
-your Katiedid
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
catalysts
Eight months, the scheme unforeseen, the distance too distant to seem significant. Then a break in the proximity. Growing further and further away, the earth spreads out its great arms between two hearts and there is a catalyst.
It couldn't wait anymore.
When Joseph and I first got engaged, we planned on waiting to get married until after I finished my degree. This was the plan up until August 24. I got back to school in Illinois, and we realized how far apart we were (yet again) and there was such a dangerous clarity to everything. We did not want to wait another 2 years to get married. Waiting that long seems so endurable when the one you love is at your side, physical and real and present. Everything changes when you're separated by 75% of a country.
Multiple phone calls, endless nights of prayer, a trip to my parents' house (made by Joey), and 2 trips to the financial aid office (made by me) later.... we have officially changed the date to June 25th of THIS coming year.
This means so many things. It means, first of all, I get a head start on this lovely thing called the rest of my life with the love of my life. It means living in a studio apartment and paying bills and washing dishes in a tiny kitchen and throwing parties in the same room as my bed. It means buying groceries and toilet paper. It means coming home to the same wonderful man every day, knowing I don't have to say goodbye to him before I go to bed.
It means having 50% LESS debt for my senior year.
It means having 14 months LESS to plan my wedding than originally planned.
It means having LESS motivation to do anything remotely responsible. (don't worry, I'll still do it.)
It means not having to wait to be with the man I love.
It means not having to sleep on a floor with 18 other people and share a shower with those people and a tv and regulate my noise level and go to meetings with them blah blah blah.
What this means is that I am losing everything I don't need and finding everything that I most deeply desire.
It couldn't wait anymore.
When Joseph and I first got engaged, we planned on waiting to get married until after I finished my degree. This was the plan up until August 24. I got back to school in Illinois, and we realized how far apart we were (yet again) and there was such a dangerous clarity to everything. We did not want to wait another 2 years to get married. Waiting that long seems so endurable when the one you love is at your side, physical and real and present. Everything changes when you're separated by 75% of a country.
Multiple phone calls, endless nights of prayer, a trip to my parents' house (made by Joey), and 2 trips to the financial aid office (made by me) later.... we have officially changed the date to June 25th of THIS coming year.
This means so many things. It means, first of all, I get a head start on this lovely thing called the rest of my life with the love of my life. It means living in a studio apartment and paying bills and washing dishes in a tiny kitchen and throwing parties in the same room as my bed. It means buying groceries and toilet paper. It means coming home to the same wonderful man every day, knowing I don't have to say goodbye to him before I go to bed.
It means having 50% LESS debt for my senior year.
It means having 14 months LESS to plan my wedding than originally planned.
It means having LESS motivation to do anything remotely responsible. (don't worry, I'll still do it.)
It means not having to wait to be with the man I love.
It means not having to sleep on a floor with 18 other people and share a shower with those people and a tv and regulate my noise level and go to meetings with them blah blah blah.
What this means is that I am losing everything I don't need and finding everything that I most deeply desire.
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