No more adulthood, please.

I got two bits of new this week that make me want to turn in my driver's license, credit cards, and license to be an adult and return to the bliss of childhood:*

1) My grandpa's getting married.

I should be happy for him, I know. That's what good granddaughters do. But it's so hard for me to accept, when I think of my grandmother and grieve for her so often, even two years after her death. Perhaps, in some ways, I'm also grieving for the life I had back then.



2) My dad is *probably* losing his job.

It's been back and forth, up and down, and around the corner for months, and even years. At this point, its probably just going to happen. I know I don't live at home anymore, and so in many ways, that news doesn't affect me. But it means that my rock of stability that, even as a 20-something adult, I lean on will be shaken. And in Michigan's poopy economy, I have no idea what will happen. I fear for them, for the decisions and struggles that they face.


BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.



(Please pray for my family.)










*Okay, not quite. The memorable years of childhood (as opposed to prepubescence and adolescence) were marked by my parents' divorced years. I'm much happier with them together.