jenniferhawke.com

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dearest Nevis,

this feels a bit strange. writing my monthly letter from such a long-distance away. i miss you terribly and in many ways can’t wait to get back. absence truly has made the heart grow fonder. the morning of my flight was so rushed, i didn’t even get to bid a proper farewell. i hope you are healthy and happy and equally missing me terribly.

Saskatchewan is great, if a little cold and windy. i have sincerely enjoyed the frozen fingertips and nippy nose and almost painfully cold ears. but it will obviously be awesome (hello, understatement!) to get back to the warm winds and happy hammock and heavenly humidity.

and this month has a few other exciting things up its’ sleeve:
- hot water heater installed May 1st
- MED 3 starts May 6th
- Tiffany comes to visit May 7-15th

i am so excited about each and every thing on that list that i can hardly type them without including about a zillion exclamation marks.

!!!!!

i’ll be back soon. so very soon! only 3 sleeps! Saturday afternoon i’m really looking forward to napping in the happy hammock wrapped in a hug of your heavenly humidity.

all my love,
`Jennifer

i always seem to write the most when i am reading the most. and for some reason, i seem to be blessed with the gift of reading books by writers who have something to say that i need to hear, just when i needed to hear it. i am addicted to quotes because they so often speak for my heart when my brain can’t figure out how to start.

Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love” is a blessing to me this week. i bought it for my mom last Mother’s Day and somehow knew i would need to read it during my vacation here.

… maybe it’s time for us to end our story forever. We were already separated, that was official, but there was still a window of hope left open that perhaps someday (maybe after my travels, maybe after a year apart) we could give things another try. We loved each other. That was never the question.

It has been so hard for me to imagine living a life without David in it. But something about my recent joy in Naples has made me certain that not only can I find happiness without David, but must. No matter how much I love him (and I do love him, in stupid excess), I have to say good-bye to this person now. And I have to make it stick.

So I write him an email.

I tell him that I hope he’s well, and I report that I am well. I make a few jokes. We always were good with the jokes. Then I explain that I think we need to put an end to this relationship for good. That maybe it’s time to admit that it will never happen, that it should never happen. My hands are shaking. I sign off with love, trying to keep as cheerful a tone as possible.

I feel like I just got hit in the chest with a stick.

I don’t sleep much that night, imagining him reading my words. I run back to the Internet cafe a few times throughout the next day, looking for a response. I’m trying to ignore the part of me that is dying to find that he has replied: “COME BACK! DON’T GO! I’LL CHANGE!”

I sit there staring at the computer screen in silence for a long, sad time. It’s all for the best, I know it is. I’m choosing happiness over suffering, I know I am. I’m making space for the unkown future to fill up my life with yet-to-come surprises. I know all this. But still…

It’s David. Lost to me now.

in my real-life version, Jonathan hasn’t responded to the email i sent a week ago. usually when he does that he is trying to “cool off” and not respond emotionally, so i probably said something that made him mad.

of course, i don’t know that he’s mad or upset. maybe he’s just busy. most likely i’m projecting my insecurities about the situation onto him. i’ve never been very good at saying things that are on my mind without fear of being misunderstood. and this time around i was full of things that needed to come out because i had to say them, not because i thought he needed to hear them. you know, selfish self-protecting and self-affirming and self-centered stuff. stuff that has the potential to make the other person mad or sad.

stuff he has had the grace and strength and generosity not to inflict upon me yet.

i just went looking through my flickr archives for a photo of him (all marked “Private” now) to go with this post. i did find a photo. one that still absolutely makes my knees melt with giddiness at the look in his eyes directed just at me. but then i realized i no longer have artistic or relationship license to share photos of him without his permission. just going through the archives sucked. my heart would really have to be made of stone to not be affected.

and despite what i might like to think or the way i may sometimes act, it is most definitely not made of stone.

bahahaha. haha. HA!

Janice drove. the sun was shining. we had tea and cookies with grandma. grandpa gave me his old medical textbooks. dad deep-fried a turkey. we went to see Jackie Chan’s latest kung fu masterpiece. i tried to sleep in. and then it was time to leave.

back in Moose Jaw until Friday. feeling so very lucky for the wonderful people i get to call “family” and saddened that our time together is always so short.

i love you, Dad, Jameson, Karen, Pat, Grandma, and Grandpa.

“What children need most are the essentials that grandparents provide in abundance. They give unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life. And, most importantly, cookies.”
~ Rudolph Giuliani

“Grandma always made you feel she had been waiting to see just you all day and now the day was complete.”
~ Marcy DeMaree

i’d like to introduce you to my mom’s parents. a pathologist and a homemaker. a windsurfer and a crocheter. a toy train tinkerer and a baker of the most amazing raisin-free cinnamon buns on the planet.

they are pretty darn wonderful.

the painting hanging above their heads is of Camp Oshkidee in the late 70s. the place i learned how to build sand castles. and float around the dock on an inner tube. and catch minnows. and go knee-boarding. and drive a skidoo/kayak/paddleboat/dirtbike. the place where we sang every campfire song you can imagine. and took our meals in a giant hall with round tables. and slept in sleeping bags on bunk beds.

the place i grew up safe and strong, knowing i was smart and loved. the place my grandma and grandpa worked hard to give our family.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.

~ Lord Byron: “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage”

[photo for Brandon because he didn't know we* have a 32 ft/10 ton moose]

i didn’t go to high school here. i didn’t grow up here. but i did go to 4 months of bible college just west of here. and since my mom moved here quite a few years ago, it has sort of become a second “hometown”.

i’m not sure i could ever live in Moose Jaw. but it’s a perfectly awesome place to hide away and recharge batteries while soaking up Dr. Phil and Oprah and extra sleep and mom’s cooking. and because i didn’t spend any of my formative years here, i don’t actually have any friends that live nearby. just family. which is exactly as perfect as it might sound: completely without any of the social pressure or obligations to “see” a lot of people.

i get to hang out around the house and tag along with my mom and her great bunch of gal friends. i get to nap in the middle of the day. i get to shower at 4pm if i want. i get to read three non-school books at once. i get to listen to the phone ring off the hook and know that it’s not for me.

the wind is rattling wooden window frames and making hollow noises through corners and eaves. the sky is bright white and another dusting of snow might be on the way… yesterday the flakes drifted down all day, but didn’t really stay. it was warm enough to turn the path around the pond to mud and for Maddy to seemingly find a whole new set of smells to keep her busy in the back 40.

my family is here. my heart is here. in so many ways, this is home.

————
*we have a few other big things in Saskatchewan!

[looking SO much like when she was a puppy]

for all of you Maddy fans out there, she is good. she is great! she was born in Saskatchewan and you’d think she never left.

she still looks for the biggest stick around. and mumbles under her breath at you on the couch when she is bored. and takes up the whole bed. and gives great hugs. and smells like the outside. and patiently lets you examine her paws or eyes or whatever. and barges into the bathroom if i don’t latch the door. and has a HUGE winter coat. and tries to clean your teeth. and loves the ends of your toast. and watches spiders intently before seeing what they taste like.

it’s going to be really hard to leave her behind this time. much harder than last time. even though i see how happy and healthy she is here, i see how much happier and healthier *i* feel with her around.

sacrificing time with your loved ones… it just plain sucks.

but even without the ocean and dog parks, Maddy’s quality of life has visibly improved from the bachelor suite in Vancouver. my mom sure knows how to love. i couldn’t wish for a more perfect place for my best girl.

a friend asked me in an email yesterday if i “managed to avoid the meltdown you (jokingly?) blogged about.”

no, i wasn’t joking.

and yes, so far so good.

i can’t say the coast is clear, but to be honest, i’m a bit bewildered. i’ve had a few days of emotional and physical downtime and am standing at the floodgates, waiting for the emotions to rush over me. the sense of sadness and loss.

but nothing is there.

i keep expecting to finally trip over the giant hole in my heart and set to work filling it in, but there’s only firm and solid ground under my feet. it’s like looking across a field to gawk at the scary crater where the meteor hit and only seeing miles and miles of green grass with sunshine on the horizon. where is the hole? why am i not hurt and wounded and finding it hard to recover? why isn’t the shock finally settling in? now that i’m allowing myself to be face-to-face with my emotions, where are they? why do i feel nothing but peace and contentment and excitement about the future?

something about the physical and emotional distance between Jonathan and i makes me feel like our break-up happened years ago, rather than mere weeks. even at night, when there is no one around for me to keep my chin up or put on a brave face for, i am fine. my thoughts before sleep are full of security and love and joy. i might still be in denial, sure. but that’s the nature of denial. i certainly can’t recognize it while i’m in it. hah.

the only thought that disturbs me lately goes something along the lines of: if i’m not really and truly sad for a long time, did i really and truly love him??

which is obviously followed quickly by: why does one have to go with the other?

i have more i want to say and write about everything, but i am trying to figure out how much i want to share. the public and private outpouring of care and concern and genuine love that you all sent my way when i first wrote about our “sacrifice to the med school gods” touched me deeply. i was saddened to hear that so many of you have been (or are going) through similar painful experiences. i really and sincerely appreciate your love and support. i know this journey wouldn’t be the same without you.

and so i feel compelled to share. both my joys and my sorrows. which means i will very likely have more to say soon. thank you for your love and your long-distance hugs and for the unique things that each of you bring to your life and mine. i feel immensely special to be a small part of the bright and beautiful light you shine in your life.

“Every now and then go away, have a little relaxation, for when you come back to your work your judgment will be surer. Go some distance away because then the work appears smaller and more of it can be taken in at a glance and a lack of harmony and proportion is more readily seen.”

~ Leonardo da Vinci