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Showing posts from December, 2016

An Open Letter to New Years Eve 2006 Me.

Dear December 31, 2006 Me,

    Hey girl. I'm writing to you from December 31, 2016. I have some stuff to tell you, because I know how you're feeling right now. 

Today, you feel like your life has ended. Your heart was shattered today in that one phone call, where her voice said, "Is this Mrs. A? Are you still married to E?" and when you confirmed both questions, a spindly, bony and ghostly hand ripped into your chest, pulled out your trusting, soft heart and slammed it to the floor. It shattered into so many splintering shards that you couldn't breathe. But C, the sweet little baby girl growing in you needs you to pick yourself up. I know it feels like you can't. But this is not the end of you. 

THIS IS NOT THE END OF YOU. 

I realize you never imagined that this would be your lot in life. You've served him and your church, you've loved hard and expected that you were loved in return. This was not on your radar, even though the stirrings have made you unco…

Merry Christmas, Aunt Marilyn

I need to tell you about someone. 

I need to tell you about my Aunt Marilyn. 

Right now, she is probably snowed in her home in the western suburb of Chicago where she lives, the area she's lived in for almost all of her life. She isn't here with us, enjoying the warmer weather and the comfort of our family gathering for the holiday.

And I miss her. 

Aunt Marilyn never married or had children, but she cared for so many. 

She is wise and brilliant, with two master's degrees and a life spent shaping the minds of middle schoolers. This is and of itself should earn her some prestigious award just for putting up with them, because no thank you. 
She has spent her life taking care of others. After my grandmother passed away and my grandfather developed Alzheimer's, she cared for him to the end. When an elderly aunt was widowed and became unable to care for herself, she cared for her through cancer, until the end. When another elderly, widowed aunt could no longer be independent, sh…

How To Cover Your Tracks When Your Bestie Draws Porn On Your Kids' Homework

We've all been there, right?

We're just having a simple girl-talk conversation with our bestie. She is explaining this new, er, "position" that she's caught wind of, and, you know, wants to pass it along for when I find my feller someday. To be fair, we were both technically unencumbered at the time. Me, freshly divorced and in my "taking some time off" season, she, well,  I PROMISED I WOULDN'T TALK ABOUT IT.

We know some stuff about each other.



I mean, sweet Mary and Joseph, we MET under suspect circumstances whilst attending a rural Arizona high school. We were two ships passing in the night at a future Stanford graduate's house where about fifty of our closest friends were making some unauthorized version of Sex on the Beach (it's a DRINK) in a bathtub. Also known as a high school party, 90's version. I think we waved "hi" in the hallway while sipping bathtub juice and became fast friends on MySpace like ten years later. Th…