I am so ready to bid this week good riddance. Too many things just threw me for a loop, as my mom would say, and I'm completely depleted. Just as I started to shake my funk over our 20th anniversary, my SIL...who hasn't really spoken to me since the separation...texted me that she got engaged. To be clear: The rift between us is one rooted in discomfort and weirdness (on her part)...not anger or resentment (on either parts). Frankly, I think she hasn't known what to say or do, and that's ok. We've had a wonderful relationship though, and I've missed her. So knowing that I was on her must-contact-immediately list meant a lot. A couple hours later she called me and told me the whole romantic story (fancy dinner, ring in a cracker jack box, tears and cheers), which I loved. And then she said, "I know things have been awful and weird, but you'll be there, right? I mean, I can't imagine you not being there. No matter what you're my sister." I couldn't even finishing talking, the tears came so fast. I promised I'd be at church no matter what and she said she'd understand no matter what.

I admit it, I was a sucker for those damn E-Harmony commercials. The personality matching. The couples giggling and kissing and looking so perfect for each other. Why the hell not? I registered. I should have stopped as soon as I realized there were no options for people seeking matches of the same sex. That bothered me a lot. But then I saw another commercial and forged ahead with the quiz. (I use that term loosely given that it took me two nights to actually finish.) The only thing that kept me going was knowing that at the end, I'd be presented with a slew of potential matches-made-in-cyberheaven. But oh no. Not for me. Here's the message that popped up:

Today I was having a conversation with a fairly new colleague about what we needed to accomplish this weekend (oh, yes, we're in rough shape) in order to finish our very big, nearly overdue project. And as we're going along, sharing our schedules and availability, I said: "My biggest window tomorrow will be during my daughter's playdate in the afternoon. I'm a single mom so I'm limited during our weekends together. Luckily, her dad can take her Sunday." I didn't choke it out. My stomach didn't contort. I didn't feel sorry for myself or even really feel much of anything.

My husband stopped by yesterday afternoon to drop off a few of my daughters' things. She was thrilled for the surprise visit and made the most of it while I started dinner. But as I stood at the stove listening to the laughing and running upstairs, my heart almost stopped. This is how things used to be. When we were a family. I ran in the bathroom when they came down becuase I didn't want either of them to see my tears. I must be getting good at hiding them because neither seemed to notice.