Old Friends

First, let me put your mind at ease and tell you that Wendy is settling in to Kansas and I am adjusting to life here without them around. While I miss seeing them everyday, and Megan still tells me she wants to go to Wendy's house, it is becoming less common.
The topic for today is old friends. Appropriate, given that I got a phone call from the older sister of an old friend today, who was looking for her old friend's phone number, who happened to be my oldest sister. So that was fun. Then I got an email from said sister's high school boyfriend stating that an old friend of my other sister was looking for contact info for that sister. So I sent that info on as well. More fun!
One of my favorite email companions is my ex from high school. While we have both moved on to different lives, I really look forward to his semi-regular emails. When we met, years ago, he always seemed to know what I needed. That hasn't changed, and his emails always manage to make me smile, give me a place to vent, or remind me why I'm working towards something to start with. Though we haven't seen each other in almost 16 years, and there was very little contact for the first 15 of those years, the last half year that we've been writing has been very cathartic. I'm trying to talk him into bringing his girlfriend down to spend the weekend in Grand Forks, touring UND grad departments in hopes that they'll choose this as their grad school.
And finally, my old friend - who is also my cousin - is on my mind and in my heart a lot these days. Her mom died a few months ago, and Erika has taken it hard. Understandably so, as they were very close. I think Erika often felt like her mom was the only constant in her life, and that losing her meant losing place in the world. I'm not going to begin to go into all the challenges Erika and her mom have faced over the years, suffice it to say that the simple fact that Erika is a loving wife and mother, a talented teacher, and a great friend speaks volumes to her strength - both strength of character and spiritual strength. What would have crushed a lesser person has made Erika more beautiful. And while she is having problems seeing that right now, I know that Linda is with her in spirit, reminding her that it is ok to enjoy life, to laugh, to love, and to carry on. I know Linda would have wanted Erika to go on living and embracing all it offers. But I also know that she isn't quite ready to make that step yet. So I am asking everyone to send your prayers, thoughts, karma, or whatever spiritual things you do, to Erika. Give her your healing vibes, help her know that moving on doesn't mean forgetting, and that her mom is still with her - in herself and in her 2 beautiful children. Maybe if enough of us send her good thoughts, she can start to heal. It doesn't matter if you know her or not, send it anyway. Everything helps!

Being a doctor's wife

Wendy and I often discussed if, given the opportunity, we'd go back in time and encourage medical school and the following residency again. While I refuse to committ our answers to print, I will say that it made for many interesting conversations over time. One thing I think we both can agree on is that being a doctor's wife isn't all its cracked up to be.
In addition to the obvious issues of the cost - in terms of money, time, and emotions - that are associated with getting the degree and training necessary, there is the LOOK others give you when you admit what your husband does for a living. It's a look that speaks volumes, ranging anywhere from assumptions that you "couldn't possibly have a brain in your head and need a man to support you" across the spectrum to "aren't you the conniving woman who managed to snag a provider?" And with the LOOK come the inevitable questions about your supposed life of luxury and how they (whoever is giving you the LOOK) would love to be in your shoes.
Really? Lady, there are many days when I'd gladly hand them over. The luxury? I live in a cramped, 900 square foot apartment with one tiny bathroom for 4 people. We drive an 11 year old Neon and an 9 year old minivan. I despise getting the mail because I know there will be another bill arriving, and just possibly another student loan statement reminding me how much we paid for Andy to become a doctor. And the best part? There's no end in sight, and unless someone has actually been through the same situation, there is very little understanding about what it actually feels like to live through this. Maybe that's why Wendy and I got along so well- 2 teachers who managed to fall in love with men who thought it'd be good to be a doctor, and we loved them enough to say "Sure, sounds great!" Who knew?
All that being said, I must say that I hold out hope that in the end even days like today will be a pleasant memory. And in the meantime, I will remember to respond to all inquiries regarding Andy's employment by stating "He works at Altru" and leave it at that. There is no need to specify.