Yesterday a sweet friend said goodbye. Sometimes it’s so hard to accept the changes life brings.
No more running into her at all the familiar places: carpool lines, back-to-school nights and the neighborhood walks you loved. No more meeting for coffee and catching up on life. No more of all the wisdom and humor she brought to those she loved and those who loved her. She’s gone.
Our poor girl. I thought you were okay. We all did.
Read MoreThere is no way to describe New England in late September. Our neighborhood farm stand has replaced baskets of ripening peaches with crisp apples grown in orchards in the foothills. Pots of autumn-colored mums have taken the place of bouquets of raffia-tied zinnias. Pumpkins of all shapes and sizes line the pebble path to our back door. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Yearly, like clockwork, people come from miles around to see the breathtaking, sensational sight of the colors of Autumn. The interim between early and late fall is so short. Soon, those we call "leaf peepers" will descend in droves to witness the leaves taking on brilliant burnt orange and all shades of ochre. Time is of the essence.
Read MoreThis morning at breakfast I noticed my husband Will’s hairline. Ever-so-slowly receding, it made me wonder how he will look when he’s in his 70’s. Handsome and distinct, I’d say.
Then my thoughts turned to my dad. He was bald ever since I can remember. But he was nothing like Will; my dad’s heart, hidden by his heinous behavior. What a shame. What a treacherous turn for a soul bound for love at birth.
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Last night I had a dream. It was more like a nightmare.
I awakened wishing I never knew you or the abuse you perpetuated with the assistance of my father, sister and everyone else with whom you so willingly shared your version of our interactions. Our story could never have ended well. Nightmares never do.
When I grow up I want to get old. But here's the thing - if growing up means not pranking people (that is my everyday passion!) and limiting my thoughts and activities to behaving like an adult, count me out. I am mischeivious, but predictably never boring. That's the only way I can live.
I am genuine and kind, and hope to never lose those qualities even when others fail to exhibit them. But life happens, and some get lost in the complexities and misfortunes that befall them. Me? I take my unfortunate past and wear it as my survival cloak. I no longer don my thorns; I wore them for years on my inside. I internalized the abuse at the hands of my parents. It felt so familiar and safe to punish myself emotionally- just like they did to me. Thankfully, those days are long gone. Daily I count my blessings. If that is a declaration of "grown up," I'll gladly take it!When I grow up I want to get old. But here's the thing - if growing up means not pranking people (that is my everyday passion!) and limiting my thoughts and activities to behaving like an adult, count me out. I am mischeivious, but predictably never boring. That's the only way I can live.
I am genuine and kind, and hope to never lose those qualities even when others fail to exhibit them. But life happens, and some get lost in the complexities and misfortunes that befall them. Me? I take my unfortunate past and wear it as my survival cloak. I no longer don my thorns; I wore them for years on my inside. I internalized the abuse at the hands of my parents. It felt so familiar and safe to punish myself emotionally- just like they did to me. Thankfully, those days are long gone. Daily I count my blessings. If that is a declaration of "grown up," I'll gladly take it!
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