Life is hard. Trying to find time to blog when you don't have a good computer at home is even harder.
Lots of things has happened since I last had time to type on here.
Did you know I have to get 2 separate passports? Yeah, I do. 1 military and 1 regular. And a visa. Ya wanna know what makes this hard for me (besides the $500 we're going to be shelling out for our family for the "regular" passports), I go to court on August 16 to FINALLY have my name legally changed. I have to wait to get all of this done AFTER I get my name changed. Which gives us a crappy time crunch. Or so some says. 14 weeks to get a passport and visa is redonkulus.
Trying to get everything together for the move is very overwhelming for me. We finally got Matti's room painted. We bought rugs for the girls for their rooms in Italy and put those down. They're sharing a room right now so we can get Chrissy's room cleaned out and painted. It's hard painting over my hard work. Not that I mind painting over it, it's just painting it the Elegant Lace so that way someone else can move in there and live in my house. But at least I'm coming back, right?
It's amazing how reality starts to set in. I can't imagine leaving here. How am I going to rely only on my husband and children? I've never done that. I've never had to. I'm scared to. What if? I have so many what if's in my head.
It scares me to think of my Papa dying. That's probably one of the hardest things to cope with. I talk to him almost everyday. On his good days, he knows who I am throughout the whole conversation. On his bad days, he knows I live on Choctaw Road and Chris is in the Navy, but he doesn't know who I am. I try and see him once a week. I should try harder. The kids love being around him. I want them to get as much time with him while he can remember them as they can. I don't want them to watch him deteriorate tho. But where do you go from here? It amazed me that I talked to him a week ago and he couldn't even remember who his wife was. And then Monday when I walked into his house he said, "I thought you were out of the country!" Is he going to forget me while I'm gone? How do I keep that from happening? I've always told Freda (his wife) that I'd help take care of him. She's insistent on keeping him out of a home. And I'd be there to help her do that. Will that happen if I'm not here? I know that when I go out of town and can't talk to him for more than 3 or 4 days, he gets upset and thinks I don't care about him. It breaks. my. heart. How do I take the guilt off of my heart? He helped raise me. When others didn't believe in me, he always did. He taught me how to believe in myself. How do I leave that?
I know God has a plan for me.
Fino alla prossima volta!
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