A LONG Weekend

This past weekend ushered in a lot of emotions and feelings I'm not quite sure how to process. This post is more for me than it is you.

It all started on Friday, with the terrific retreat I had with corporate leadership. It actually takes place on the convent grounds and it's so beautiful. I woke up to the first decent snowfall of the season and after a couple hours of white-knuckled travel, I actually started to relax (cue the stress let-down migraine!). Our group of 20 from around the system will come together for two days a total of ten times over the next two years. I was honored to even be considered for the program and stoked when, after the opening prayer service, they collected our blackberries and iphones. They wanted us to unplug and they meant it!

[I went into a quick, sweaty panic attack for I hadn't put my "out of office" notice up on Outlook.]

The whole point of the program is to get to know your peers in the group via classroom time together, communal eating, and fellowship. They're trying to make us stakeholders in the mission of Muppetville, so we continue the traditions in an era of declining religious vocations. I'm in so far over my head, as the youngest and lowest ranking in the group. There's one other younger woman in the group, who was on the Boca conference as well, and we're really bonding.

She rocks. She's one of those power women. And I will call her Ra. As in "she Ra."

The whole first day was used to break open the group and get people talking. Then we had a happy hour with a full bar followed by a stunning dinner with seabass and prime rib. The food was amazing and we intermingled with nuns and religious at meals (what was that vow of poverty? Does that not include prime rib?). Then I went where no woman has gone before...I played Euchre with the Mother Superior of the entire convent.

How freaking neat is that?!

But we lost. She was my partner and apparently her record is, like, 204-1. Make that 204-2! I hope this doesn't damage my chances of promotion within the system!

Seriously though, after Day 1, my head felt full and I felt so insecure. I don't have problems understanding philosophy and Thomistic roots of the Catholic liturgy, but I feel insecure because I have a mere fraction of the life experience of the others. I inwardly wondered what I could possibly have to offer the others in our group discussions. I decide that I wasn't going to self-select out and disengage, asking questions anyway. I think it's a matter of emotional intelligence; I'm still thinking about "me" when others are thinking "us."

Ra and I pow-wowwed for a couple hours Friday night and talked through our similar reactions to Day 1. I felt better after talking to her and we immediately agreed to put a standing meeting on our calendars where we could safely discuss our fears, questions, and victories.

I barely slept that night, keyed up from the day's activities and anticipating Zibby's wedding the next day. Day 2 of the retreat was better than day 1; we discussed metaphorical theology's interpretations of paternalistic models and paradigms and worked through philosophies of paradigm-shifts (that's fancy for "change management"). We discussed the history of monastic traditions and how healthcare evolved from those organizations. These utterly geeky subject matter excited me for my first theology class in my resumed-degree...Synoptic Gospels. I have a sneaking suspicion that this program and my classes are going to go hand-in-hand.

God has a sense of humor like that.

Anyway, I left the retreat and went straight over to my folks' house to dress for the wedding. Exhausted from the outstanding experiences and mind candy, I launched into adrenaline mode for the wedding. We arrived and I almost didn't recognize my brothers, Brady and Zibby. Both looked stunning. Both looked grown-up. And I felt old. Time marches on.

The wedding was pretty quick, albeit very nice, and Zibby married Libby. They're young, stupid, and penniless. But so were Jack and I when we got married, so I couldn't really cast stones at the young couple. My mom was a wreck and she squeezed my hand into numbness during the ceremony. Then Zibby asked Mom to dance during the mother/son dance and everyone in the family had red eyes as they swayed to "Unforgettable."

You know how some distinct experiences immediately over-write any preconceived memories you may attach to a song? That's how it was with "Unforgettable." It'll always be Zibby and Mom's song now.

As an afternoon wedding, it wrapped up early and my aunts and uncles hung around the hall, wondering when the party would start (like any good Pollack). A few of us shared stories and margaritas, trying to digest the fact that little Zibby is now a husband and father with his own family and home.

That night, Jack sacked out in my folks' recliner while Mom and I sat on the couch and listened to my dad and Brady rehash the wedding. Next thing I knew, I felt dad lightly covering mom and I up with a blanket and flipping off the light. I can't remember the last time she and I napped on each others' shoulders...probably when my grandma passed away some 12 years ago.

We knew we had to stay the night. It was Zibby's first official night out of the house. His empty room hit us all squarely in the gut. It was real. He was gone. And that was the first time I experienced empty nest syndrome...and I haven't lived in that house since I was 18! I couldn't even imagine the pain my folks felt with his absence. It felt natural to stay over and give them one more night with a full house.

In my mom's words, a full house is a full heart.

And so we stayed.

The morning came quickly and Jack and I departed for our own home. The weekend left me unsettled and uniquely overwhelmed....yet, oddly at peace. It was as though one chapter is ending and another beginning.

And I'm going to be okay!