Following my sun: the one where I say goodbye

I know my recent absence from this space has been abrupt in light of the considerable effort I have spent the last two years convincing readers to invest in my life.

I know that radio silence for a month is perhaps even disrespectful, given the fact that I have often drank deeply, nay greedily, from your virtually never-ending well of support and goodwill.

But I hope you will forgive me when I explain that since I have last written, everything I used to assume about the way my life would play out has changed.

At the beginning of the summer I applied for what I can only describe as my dream job: a job that would catapult me several steps up a career ladder on which I already occupied a comfortable middle position. It is a job that represents an enormous challenge, a job that would move me into the inner circles of the film and television industry and allow me to advocate for the people and places I hold dearest in my heart.

I am not normally a humble sort, but suffice to say I firmly believed that my application was a long shot

But I got the job.

I got the job and in just a few days I will fly to Los Angeles, California on a nine-day business trip during which I will find a place for my family to live.

In mid November I will leave Don Mills and Canada and my life here behind to chase my dreams and ambitions in a place where success in my chosen industry represents the very pinnacle of success.

I have been offered what I believe is the opportunity of a lifetime folks and I'm going for it.

It will not be easy. It has not been easy. In the month since I accepted the offer I have plummeted down the rabbit hole into a vortex of details and lawyers and contracts and home listings and visas and export papers and anxiety and studying and disbelief and sleepless nights and joy and uncertainty and heartfelt late night talks.

I will pull up stakes and move south towards the end of November. Rob and Graham will await my return about a month later and after Christmas together we will return to Los Angeles as a family to build our lives anew in a sunny place, far removed we hope from the uncertainty and darkness of the past year.

It was on last New Year's Eve that we learned that cancer cells had been found in Rob's mother's stomach lining. That very day she was released from the hospital to our home where at midnight we raised a hopeful, if tentative glass to the possibilities that 2009 would bring.

We did not know then that we would mourn her death just 11 weeks later: we have learned since that, more often than not, both life and happiness are hard fought.

And so we are fighting. And we are moving. And I am moving on from this space which I believe is incompatible with my new job, at least in its present incarnation.

In just a few weeks I will be taking Don Mills Diva private and providing a password for friends and family who may be interested in photos and basic updates on how we're doing.

If you'd like to keep in touch feel free to request the password via e-mail and if you live in the Los Angeles area especially please touch base.

I will miss Don Mills Diva and I will miss all of you. It is thanks in no small part to my readers, supporters and even dissenters, that I was successful in obtaining this job. Even more than the guerrilla social media and Internet marketing skills I learned from the blogosphere, I learned confidence in the expression of my ideas and confidence in the importance of what I could contribute.

If there is one regret that I have with regards to my withdrawal from the blogging community it is the vague sense that I took so much more from it than I was able to give. During some of the darkest days of my life you gave me a renewed conviction in my personal power and there is no way I will ever be able to repay that.

Thank you each and every one for lifting me up and helping me soar.

Good bye and God bless you.

Breathe

I don't think I'm very different from most moms in that my expectations for Mother's Day are generally very modest.

And given that Rob lost his mom less than two months ago, it would have been particularly unseemly for me to insist on an over-the-top celebration this year.

So of course I didn't.

I prayed for only one thing and I asked for another and I am proud to report that both my requests were granted.

Yesterday, I let out a long, slow breath of anticipation and fear and uncertainty.

Today, after cuddling with my boy and watching cartoons in the early morning hours, I sent husband and son away, locked the bedroom door and availed myself of a sleep aid.

I am currently enjoying my "morning" coffee and don't expect them home for at least an hour.

And it feels good.

I am itching to write. From the very moment yesterday when it was confirmed that Rob and my plans are well and truly in motion, ideas for stories and posts have flooded my brain.

I'm going to tackle an explanation after I have enjoyed a family dinner here with Rob's dad and his brother's family (including the lovely LeeAnne).

I wish each and every one of you happiness and peace this Mother's Day.

Waiting to exhale

More than once over the last few days I have caught myself holding my breath.

I am on tenterhooks.

I am on the verge of a major life change. I am marking time, counting the days (hours?) until I can let it all out here and resume the style of writing that has both sustained me and allowed me to amass quite a large number of readers who I fear are growing increasingly bored and frustrated by my paralysis.

I'm sorry.

I thank you for your patience and I thank my sister-in-law LeeAnne for continuing to write entertaining things for you to read over at my other joint. You can check out her latest by clicking here.

Blessed

I was getting Graham ready for bed tonight when a thought popped unbidden into my mind.

I wonder if his Oma will drop by tonight to say goodnight to him?

And then it hit like a punch in the stomach: No, she won't. She won't drop by tonight or ever again.

But instead of breaking down yet again, I bit my lip and started to do what I have resolved to do from now on every time that the darkness threatens to descend upon me.

I counted my blessings.

I am blessed with a strong marriage and a husband who adores me.
I am blessed with a well-paid, challenging job that I enjoy.
I am blessed with wonderful family and friends.
I am blessed with readers who care enough about my well-being to leave heartfelt comments and send lovely, thoughtful e-mails.
I am blessed to know a love I never dreamed possible.

I am blessed.

Here comes the sun

I never did share any pictures of our vacation in Key West a few weeks back.

It didn't seem appropriate, somehow, to hold up and celebrate the wispy snippets of happiness that we managed to steal even as Rob's mom lay in a hospital suffering terribly from the ill effects of her first round of chemotherapy.

But she is better now - her improvement over the past week has been so dramatic that it feels something like a miracle and we are enjoying her relative good health even as we look towards next week when she faces her next scheduled round of treatments.

And these days, these days we are feeling hopeful. We are still heavy with stress and worry - just like we were the entire time we were away - but it no longer feels as if reveling in moments of joy will surely tempt fate to steal them away again.

We needed these days and we needed this joy. We need it still: I expect the memory of it will be our sustenance as we all continue down the long and difficult road ahead.