Sometimes We Cry...over spilt milk and things of the more-serious variety

For a long time I considered myself someone who adapted to change easily, but as I grew older I realized that though I welcome change, I need time to adapt. Like many, I don't like to feel out-of-control and it's hard for me to sometimes accept things as they come. Most of the time, I am very upbeat and I really honestly try to look on the bright side and focus on the positive every day of my life. But sometimes, things become so weighed down that it's very hard.

I've been feeling weighed down lately. My Dad was very ill over the holidays and is still in the hospital. Though he is steadily progressing, is no longer in the ICU and today was allowed to eat food, he still has a long road to recovery in front of him. It's been tough, on him, my Mom, my family and friends. I'm happy that my Dad is doing much, much better the worry and stress is hard. When things like this happen to family, you feel like everything should stop. But it can't...bills need to be paid, work needs to be completed and time marches on. I don't even think I need to discuss that very much here because I truly believe that each and every person has been through something that has made them feel the same way. We all understand how it feels.

But I'm a tough cookie because my parents are tough cookies. We'll all get through this together and in the end, that's what matters. That doesn't mean a tough cookie can't be upset. And it's often the small stuff that makes us crumble, if even for a minute. That's why I was practically in tears this morning because I can't find the black beret I got for Christmas. It's been missing since Saturday and I love it and I want it back. The fact that I can't fix this one error is driving me crazy. It's like the one thing that tipped me over the edge and I just know I'll never find a hat just like it if doesn't reappear soon.

And even a tough cookie gets self-concience. We all carry the weight of our past with us and sometimes those old habits come creeping back even when your most sane self knows they shouldn't. I have the best guy. But sometimes the old habits and fears creep in. And I get sad and dramatic and worry. But he is the best guy I could ask for. He missed Christmas with his family to spend it in the hospital with mine. He visits my Dad in the hospital in-between his classes. He brought my Dad a cell phone and charger and even gives him "dollars" and answers all of my Dad's med-induced goofy questions. He is patient and kind and sat down to go over paper work and money-questions with my mom. All without me even asking. And I love when he laughs when I cry over hats, and old men, and the homeless, my Dad, money, school work and every thing in-between. Because yes, I do know that I can be a drama queen. But it's nice to be reminded and loved at the same time.