Skip to main content

21 Days: Day 12

Well, about 50 of you are hanging in and reading this every day. I'll send you all thank you notes when it's over--most of you probably already got or are getting one though. Today was a spectacularly average day sprinkled with some fun little interactions ... impromptu chats with friends, a phone conversation with a much-missed soul sister, a snowy walk with the dog. Good stuff.

1. My day didn't start so great though. The dog woke me at 4:00 a.m. alerting me to how I'd be spending my morning -- i.e., scrubbing carpet. But, there were still plenty of blessings to count, and I had plenty of extra time to count them.

2. Historically, I've been a worst case scenario thinker. I worried about bad things happening to people I love. In the past few years, however, my life shifted to a degree that I learned to surrender and trust that everything is going to be all right.

For example, Chloe lives in another state. She traveled to two different countries last year. I don't see her very often. Sometimes I don't hear from her before I go to bed. Sometimes, I don't hear from her for almost a whole day; I do start to freak out a little bit when that happens. But mostly, I know that she is okay. I remember my dad telling me, "No matter how old you get, you will always be my baby," and that is the truth. But I am blessed that I get to have an awesome grown-up relationship with her.

Then there's the fact that Brad travels frequently for work. Twenty or so years ago, when I was super jealous and possessive, it would have made me crazy not to know exactly what he was doing. The ladies love that guy. And although he has never done anything to make me mistrust him, there is that shrew-y little voice that sometimes suggests he could be getting into all kinds of mischief. I told that voice not to even go there with me. Once, I surmised that he had a perfect job to have an affair, if, in fact, he wanted to have an affair. He gave me the squinty-eye and reassured me with, "You're silly, baby."

I realized today, as my daughter headed off to New York City, that I didn't even get a little bit of a pit in my stomach. I didn't tell her to be careful or lecture her on all the hidden dangers that could be lurking. She's been lots of places and knows about the dangers. In fact, she is far more worldly than I am. The only thing I felt was genuine excitement for her knowing that she is going to have an amazing time.

Acknowledging that I no longer have to worry about every little thing makes me extremely grateful for the way my molecules have been rearranged.

3. I have to buy more thank you cards. That is all.

I'm writing early because our afternoon and evening are filled up with activities, but today, I'm going to post it instead of messing around thinking, "Oh, I'll edit this later..." because that blew up in my face yesterday. 9 days left, kids. I ate a half an avocado and two carrots for breakfast. The crazy thing is: I enjoyed it.


  1. Don't worry, we got her liquored and sent her and Studly Do-Right off into the Manhattan night to brave the tranny hookers of the West Side.

    1. And you are just one of many reasons I am a catastrophic thinker. You and I both know that sometimes the worst possible thing that can happen does. But they had a good time with you; thank you :)

    2. Also, Brad fondly refers to him as "The Sultan."


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Did I Love Him Enough?

I just started reading a new book. It's called Weight Loss for People Who Feel Too Much by Colette Baron-Reid, who I discovered on my current favorite podcast: This is Fifty With Sheri and Nancy. It is blowing my mind and showing me that some of the extra pounds I'm carrying don't even belong to me. Seriously. This is yours, this is his, this is hers, and oh wait, THAT? That belongs to a person who isn't even part of my life anymore! Great. Take your shit back.

More on that later. But, listen to the podcast. Seriously, you will love it!

Anyway, while in this super zen, grown-up, boundary-setting, higher self head space, I need to tackle an issue I've been avoiding for about 18 years but really strongly avoiding for the last 6 months. My son is growing up. He graduates from high school on Sunday, and in a few months, he's moving to Columbus to attend THE Ohio State University.

Can I tell you a secret? I used to LOVE everything about THE Ohio State University, bu…

Why Didn't I Report It?

When I was 17, I went with friends to a party at a boy's house from another school. I drank too much and passed out. I don't remember much about the incident, but I woke up with my friend screaming at a boy, pulling me up and dragging me to the car. She told me that she came looking for me and found me passed out. The boy had his penis in my face. I don't remember it. Thankfully.

I never told my parents who would have said, "How stupid could you be? You shouldn't have put yourself in that position." They would not have said, "No one should put his penis in your face without your consent."

A few months ago, I saw a picture of that boy on social media. He's a man now. With a beautiful family. He probably doesn't remember that night. I wondered: What might have happened if my friend didn't walk in and tell him to get his dick out of my face? Were there were other girls whose friends didn't come looking for them? Did they ever tell anyone…

Before and After

We all have defining moments...instances when something happens--good or bad--and you know from that point forward you'll measure your life in terms of before and after that event. Of course there are sometimes more than one, but there is nearly always one.

For me, it was my brother's death. February 5, 1989. There have been others. A dear friend's death in 1992. Another brother died in 1997. My dad died in 2011. But February 5, that was the one for me.

I started to think of and look at things in terms of before Chris died and after.

Before Chris died, I believed in magic. In God. In miracles. After, I believed that you should never let yourself get too comfortable or trust happiness because it would be ripped away from you.

Before Chris died, I often felt special and love and cherished. For too long after, I felt pretty worthless.

Before Chris died, I believed that I was brave and strong. After he died, I felt weak and afraid when I needed to be brave and strong.

Before …