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Oooooooh, things just don’t always work out the way we expect them to. Like we needed more proof of this, right? The father of Mark’s best friend died yesterday afternoon and the funeral is on Saturday. Soooooo, we’re not going.

I’m on hold right now with Continental, trying to re-deposit my miles for use on a future (and hopefully soon) trip, although our flight was set to leave in less than 24 hours so I’m not sure I’ll be successful. If I am, we’ll try to go within the next two weeks or so.

Oh, I’m so so bummed. And now I feel guilty because I was actually mad at Mark for wanting to be there for his friend. Nice of me, huh? I was just so ready, so eager for this special family time. But of course, the world does not revolve around my travel schedule and a lovely woman has lost her husband. And our three dear friends have lost a father. And three more friends have lost a father-in-law. And six beautiful children have lost their beloved grandfather.

So, we’ll stand beside Scott and Cathy and all the rest this weekend, right where we should be. And Maine will be there in a month, standing beside the sea like it always has. The air will turn cooler and the leaves will turn colors and we’ll have our special and needed family time soon. Soon.

Some of you have asked recently about the progress of Austin’s treehouse. Weeeelllll, there’s a reason I haven’t mentioned it. And that’s because it isn’t happening. Or isn’t happening yet.

A few weeks ago, we heard from Make-A-Wish that his project can’t be covered by this year’s budget and would have to be moved to the next fiscal year which starts in September. Which means that, by the time it goes through their approval process and the weather has turned, it won’t be built until next spring.

This is majorly disappointing for a few reasons. First, we of course want the kids to have it, especially after having talked it up for so long. They’ve actually stopped asking recently, which strikes me as sort of sad. But more than anything, I feel really bad that our wish is turning out to be a burden to the organization, which is so not what I had intended.  I had been under the impression that this was the sort of wish they wanted people to ask for, since it would be done primarily with donated materials and volunteer labor, but now I’m not sure that’s the case. I asked our wish coordinator if we should make a donation to Make-A-Wish that could go directly toward Austin’s treehouse and she said, No no no, let them worry about the details; we should just enjoy ourselves. Part of me wants to cancel the entire thing and just build it on our own but then I’d feel bad towards them, especially the two women who are in charge of Austin’s wish and repeatedly tell me how excited they are to make this a wonderful experience for the whole family.

What to do, what to do?  I guess if this is my big worry, then I can’t really complain, right?

I have never been to a Cavs game. Ever. And boy, am I regretting that now.

So, yeah, I’m disappointed. Just like very other sports fan in Cleveland. And almost every other living, breathing human being in Cleveland. This definitely sets us back about a decade in our never-ending, never-satisfying quest for a championship.

But — and no, I’m not going to say, “But there are two wars going on and there’s an oil spill and children have cancer,” (even though there are and there is and they do) — but simply that it’s his life and his choice. So maybe he’s chasing money and glory and a high-rolling life? That’s his right. Many of us have left our hometowns for higher salaries, more glamorous zip codes, more exciting lifestyles.  That doesn’t make us traitors.

Now I agree that this sucks, that Cleveland deserves a break and definitely definitely deserves a championship. And I also agree that he owed this city the courtesy to not make that announcement in such a grandiose fashion. He had to know that people would take it personally and he should have shown more respect and foresight than that. But ultimately, it’s his life. And he gets to do with it whatever he wants.

And I thought Mark and I were making The Decision of 2010. Geez.

Le Braedan, 2004

Going . . .

Gone

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