After a year of quiet, white-knuckled uncertainty, it's finally official. On July 25, just two days before my 36th birthday, my son and I will return to the Chicago area once and for all, with my husband following behind shortly after.
It'll be good to be home again.
In the meantime, I received a giant e-mail from my best friend in Chicago, who recently returned from a trip with her hubby to Central Mexico, where they experienced an intense religious ceremony conducted by a local sha-woman, involving a specific type of mushroom. My friend told me what knowledge she had walked away with, comparing it to a similar South American rite they'd participated in last year. Reading her letter made me experience an intense gush of love for this woman, reminding me how important she's been during the decade (lifetimes) of friendship we've shared. How much I'm looking forward to being closer proximity to her again, I can't convey.
Things have gotten dramatic in the house since last I wrote. Hubby tried to throw MiL out last Thursday, but none of the other brothers would take her in (isn't that sad and scary and pathetic all at once?), so here she's staying for the next two weeks, with no relief in site. After that big scare she's been on super-good behavior, but the tension in the air is thick, and it's only a matter of time before there's another blow-out.
I'm trying not to feel put-upon that during my final two weeks in this house I'll have to pack up and say goodbye to the house and the scenery around her constant presence, struggling to take my peace where I can and to ease the obvious strain on my son.
But then, my family and I will soon be descending upon my parents in much the same way, won't we? I like to think we're nicer and easier to get along with than MiL, but it'll still be a strain, and probably most significantly on my mom and husband, for reasons of their own.
Must be tolerant. Must learn from this experience...
But at least we're going to Chicago... I thought I'd reached Nirvana when my husband had given me a digital camera for my birthday. But this return to my stomping grounds is the present of a lifetime. I only hope my husband's emigration proves to be as rewarding to him, as this move means to me.
