Supposed To Be

Lily took this photo of me yesterday, just after we decided to cancel Jamaica.

In it, I believe you can see the deep sadness in my eyes

contrasted against the smile in my mouth that seeks to tell my daughter that "we're A-okay."

Sometimes, I feel deeply sad at how much of my life I've wasted in "supposed to be." The years I wasted wishing I was teaching in a "better" school. not enjoying the students I taught in the moment; the months I wasted wishing my Hoboken roommate was around more often, not enjoying the freedom a quiet apartment can bring; the hours I wasted wishing I had a family, not appreciating that family doesn't always look like a ring on a finger and a babe in arms.

And yet--in spite of my recognition of all that--tonight I find myself again wishing for what was supposed to be. Tonight, Friday, June 16, 2017, Jeff and I were to be on the first true vacation we'd ever taken--the first one that wasn't with family and friends or to visit family and friends, the first one that wasn't a quick stay at a nearby bed and breakfast or a visit to an amusement park with Lily. Tonight we were supposed to be at an all-inclusive resort in Jamaica, belatedly celebrating my 40th birthday, drinking some tropical cocktail in our balcony tub that overlooked the water.

But instead I'm typing this from my plain, boring bed. I can hear Lily's Baby Einstein aquarium playing its endless circuit of maddening music, and nothing more exciting awaits me this evening than responding to her demands for rocking that will interrupt my attempt to continue watching season 2 of The Last Ship on Hulu. I could make different choices: I could choose to have a glass of wine on our front lawn with neighbors who are outside or to book some kind of short stay next week with Jeff and Lily to use up the two vacation days I have remaining before July 1... the ones that were supposed to be spent on a warm beach in Jamaica under an umbrella, reading the two new novels freshly downloaded to my Kindle. But I have no desire to be cheered up.

I don't think I'm angry tonight; I think I'm just disappointed. Disappointed in all the effort that went into planning a trip that was suddenly upset 48 hours in advance by a toddler's viral infection. Disappointed in having to cancel airline tickets and resort reservations because there was no viable option to reschedule. Disappointed in trying to find a makeshift second-best that will never live up to a trip we'd been looking forward to for months.

This year has been hard: the demands of my new job have impacted our family, Lily's tyrannical reign as a three-year-old has exhausted our patience, Jeff's desire to pursue personal passions has been squelched again and again. This trip was meant to be The Thing That Rejuvenated Us, and it's gone, disappearing in a hazy mist of Children's Motrin dosages and expensive pediatrician bills.

So, perhaps tonight is just a night to mourn that which was Supposed To Be. Surely tomorrow will be better.

From Saturday night, June 17,

(when, thank God, one of Lily's favorite babysitters was free).

The night that Wasn't What It Was Supposed To Be...

But We'll Make It Through Anyway.