Impossible as it is to believe, I've gotten to the point where there's nothing to say. Nothing to wonder, to ponder, to explore, to worry about, to delve into.
We're waiting for a doctor to get back from vacation to interpret liver biopsy results. No one's quite sure when she'll be back in the office. And after 2 weeks away, I doubt that this will be at the top of her to do list.
It is what it is.
Worrying won't make anything happen faster. Panicking won't get her back at her desk faster.
And so, I'm not.
Instead I'm staring down a seder for 12 (or 14) that I'd given no thought to until yesterday. I'd thought I'd be recuperating from surgery, or preparing for an operation tomorrow. I thought this year I'd be exempt from hosting and cleaning and cooking and organizing.
Nope.
Carrots are in the oven. Potatoes are on the stove. Matzoh kugel is next on the list.
The apartment is disastrous at the moment. I have to track down table cloths and fancy napkins. Candles and Passover accessories. Tables to set. Folding chairs to locate.
Matzoh balls have to be made. Soup cooked. Desserts organized.
And then, a week and a half of kids home for spring break with absolutely no plans made.
Normally, I'd be a frenzied wreck. Instead, I'm appreciating the warm breeze flowing through the window, Iz and the pup napping together on the couch, the smell of brown sugar filling the air.
It is what it is.
And I'm learning that that's just fine.
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