Struck Down

The other night, Amy called me serenading me with the Book of Love by the Magnetic Fields, the song from our wedding.  She told me she'd been listening to over and over (using the voice control function on her iphone, what what!) to learn the words

I could have cried.

She didn't know yet what I knew -- that her new home had rejected her, that she wasn't moving any day.  She didn't know that I could barely breathe as I talked to her, and felt myself crumbling.

I can't talk about the why because it's too personal, but I feel at fault.  I know I'm not at fault, but I feel like I misstepped, and if I'd done a few things differently, she would be on schedule to move in.  The number one thing: I feel like should have gone with on her house visit and we would have a different result.  But I was exhausted from weeks of driving to Chicago sometimes multiple times a week for her appointments, for celebrations, for weekends with her, and from our whirlwind trips to Kentucky to get the new van renovated.  She was so hopped up from the house tour and eager to start her independent life, and she wanted to go it alone, and god, it seemed like such a relief -- she's be happy and occupied, and I could just enjoy what I was doing and not feel worried she was idle and forlorn at the current house.

When my mom died, everything was crap and terrible, and then in August I got this email about these openings, and it was this sliver of light in our lives, and it breathed hope and energy in to us.  And maybe I should just be thankful for that, but man, I am so disappointed.  I was so excited for Amy's life in that house, and so excited for the relief that I would experience as Amy's life improved -- like actual relief from the flood of visits, calls, and email writing, and also emotional relief.

Amy knows now, of course.  She is really disappointed, really sad, and really anxious about continuing to stay in her current house, but she really truly is handling this with grace.  I'm so proud of her, and thankful.