Disappointments and Gratitude

So . . . the conference this year was disappointing for most of us in the family. I am not faulting the conference itself. I am sure it was the life-changing, empowering experience it always is for most of the people. I don't know if we had changed. .  or what.  We just didn't seem to connect with anyone like in the past. No long chats, no deep conversations, just quick hugs in the hallway and moving on. Nicole and I's song for the Talent Show (of which I was absolutely terrified of doing) just didn't come off the way we wanted it to at all. We were sandwiched in between three year olds doing dance moves and six year old violinists (all absolutely precious, believe me, but it made doing a song about Viagra seem a tad incongruous). The mike was the wrong height and the acoustics were such that we couldn't hear the music well enough to stay where we should be. Nonetheless, I did it--a major milestone I have struggled with since the years in the past when Jasmine wanted me to go up for the Clonlara Talent Show. And Nicole and I are sufficiently inspired to perform the song this summer at the VW camp out.

This was my first year leading workshops at the conference and I was very, very excited. I spent hours preparing outlines, getting prizes, sending out for freebies . . . . . and had to get up early to get there on time and set up. No one came. Zip. That has actually never happened to me at a conference. I usually draw a decent crowd. I was really disappointed and walked out for the rest of the day, cancelling my other workshop that afternoon. Yeah, I felt like a little kid stamping her feet, but I was just disappointed.

For a number of other reasons, the conference simply hasn't worked for us. We will pick Coryn up after today's picnic. Since we dropped him off on Wednesday, we haven't seen him for an hour. (Another issue, but that's for later.) Mostly we heard from him when he needed money or clean clothes. :)

On the other hand, I have a great reason to be smiling today. This is the 30th anniversary of my first date with Joseph. Thirty years ago, on Memorial Day, he pulled up in front of my parent's house is his T-top orange Corvette. I watched him through the window, nervous as can be. We had a great date . . . and it snowballed from there such that we were ENGAGED 17 days later, married six months after that.  Now, 30 years later, I still get butterflies when I see him across the room, and he can look at me and say, when I ask how he wants to spend this holiday, "I just want to be anywhere that you are."  Cue butterflies.