Am I done yet?

It's been almost four weeks (three weeks and two days which in my book is almost 4) since I've said "Quit." But, it seems in this house "quit" doesn't mean "finished, done, kaput, take a gander at my bum while i walk out your front door," nor does it seem to mean any of those will occur in the near future. The contract (that I never signed but am holding to because I believe in honor and justice and all that) says for four weeks notice. Monday, August 8th is four weeks exactly. After that, I'm not bound to the house of crazy in any way. I can walk "legally". Yet, if they don't find a nanny by then what do I do? Do I leave them hanging with a sick grandpa 6 hours away that the mom has to go visit while dad tries to juggle the house on his own? How much do I care about the well-being of this family? They don't care one lick about me. They've proven it over and over again, and especially since I've said I'm going. Yet, I feel bad. Is that just the mid-west gentile? Should I ignore it and bolt as soon as my "contract" allows?

What's more, it's exhausting to worry over it, to worry over the girl because even though she is an annoying six year old at times, she is also very sweet and loving and in need of someone to cry to when mum isn't able to be around. So, I worry over her, I worry over leaving the family without a caregiver for the girl, I worry over my visa and finding other jobs after this, over a place to live after this. I need time next week to go into interviews and pick a school (I have three interested in me, all with similar contracts.) I need time to find an apartment as well. I've been searching online for the past week with Brendan. We keep e-mailing each other back and forth similar ad posts. Yet, we can't decide until we know where I'll work. And I don't know that until I know when I'm finished with this job. This job, however, seems never-ending. Am I done yet?!

Also, the news on the home front makes me more homesick than ever. A new person has come into the world! A little girl named Lauryn. My mom sent me a photo of her and her grandma (my aunt) and she's so adorable I want to do that pinching cheeks thing that kids hate. She's almost a week old now, but what I'd really like to do is fly home and meet her, see her brother and sister and the family. Just for a week or two.

I'd also like to pay my respects to my step-grandma who past away last week. I didn't get to visit her when I was home last and I'd like to say a goodbye though she won't really hear it. Yet, I found out that the postcard I sent (in my first wave of trials with the Turkish post) actually made it to her! I think that's some proof of a miracle! Anyways, I'm just glad she knew I cared before she was gone. I've always thought we don't do enough to show our care during life - like they always say "Don't speak ill of the dead." But what about the living? Is it okay to speak ill of them? Why give flowers to a grave when they fit much better in a life filled hand? I think maybe the small reminders of care can lift a person up, how high doesn't matter. A lift maybe all that's needed. I hope that my simple postcard did that for Glady because I'm sure kind words are much harder to hear when you're six feet under.

So, that's where I'm at these days. In limbo and awaiting news about anything. I'd like to quit and fly home on the first flight to MSP, but that's not the way I was raised. I'm not a quitter- quitter. One who lets people down and hurst others. I'm trying to end this well, it's just knowing how long it is til the end that is most trying.