Aftershocks

It doesn't happen so often anymore, the sudden bursting into tears. It kind of surprises me when it does, like the earth giving a shudder just to remind you how much upheaval it underwent. What am I crying about now, after so many months? All I can do is nail the prints to the wall and bolt the bookshelves upright, remember to stand in the doorway for shelter, and hang on through the aftershocks.

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It's the Thought that Counts?

Sometimes you give somebody a gift, and it all goes horribly wrong.  You share a book with them and they break the spine, you knit them a sweater and they shrink it in the wash. Or worse still, they spill your beans without your permission, or they take your heart and crumple it up in a little ball. In sharing something you love with someone you care about, you give them the ultimate gift of your trust. And they break it.

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Mirror Image

In just over a week I will have another birthday. And it’s a “year with a nine in it,” which means it’s time for me to target some new thing to learn to do over the following decade.  Once a decade I suck it up, set a challenge to myself, and try to step outside my comfort zone a bit. At least this little project is about picking up something new rather than finding bits and pieces of my identity lying crumpled on the floor.    

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Lucky Fuck

Four years ago today, I rolled into Walla Walla, Washington.  It feels like a lifetime ago. Technically, it was a lifetime ago, because that girl is gone. She blew away in one of the strong winds that push so much debris out of this valley. But the one who replaced her? She is one Lucky Fuck. After four decades of moving, after so many years of planning a home in partnership with another, after all that, this little town in the far corner of the state has become my home. And while I still may be lonely at times, I know that I am not and will not ever be truly alone here.

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Three Wishes

I'm not going to lie to you, being a teen aged girl can be really hard. Really hard. But you've already shown that you can do "the impossible." You've proven to yourself and the rest of the world that you are tough, and smart, and determined. You are a Girl on the Run getting ready for the starter's gun to go off, and there is no stopping you. And you can be sure that I am always cheering you on.  You can do this. On your marks, get set.....GO!

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Balls to the Wall, Baby

Just go for it.  Balls to the wall.  It may go poorly.  Hell, statistically it's likely to go poorly. And if I end up flat on my ass I'll turn to one of my friends to plead pretty please get me a winch. And I'll see it as a chance to flex my coping muscles, to build a little bulk on my emotional biceps. But if it doesn't---oh, if it doesn't, and instead it is glorious and I feel invincible and like I'm flying--wasn't it worth it? Doesn't even the slightest chance of it being amazing make it worth doing?

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This Document Is NOT Legally Binding

None of us have those plans made out, right? None of us had our Go Bag ready when we lost the job, or the marriage fell apart, or an injury sidelined us, or our husband suddenly got really sick and then died. None of us were quite prepared for the heartbreak or the paperwork. There was no tip sheet for suddenly feeling alone and like a failure. None of us got a handbook titled, “What to Do When Your Plans Have Gone Down the Toilet.” 

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Spooky Action

So here I am: playing chicken with my 50s, disheveled and disoriented. I am entropy embodied, and acted upon in the spookiest and most mysterious of ways. I'm hapless, and ditzy, and I let my dog boss me around. I laugh too loudly for polite company, and I am rarely dressed appropriately. My yard is overgrown, and I believe that cereal is a perfectly acceptable dinner. I often do things without really knowing why, let alone what the end game is going to be. But fuck it, I'm still standing. 

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