Holding at 133.8…
and…damn happy to be doing so…considering…
Can you believe this mess we’re all in? Sometimes I stop and think…this cannot be real!!
I called my daughter the other day and asked her, “Do you mind not shopping?”…and she said…”NOT AT ALL…I could happily become agoraphobic in a heart beat…”…
AND I…being the completely self-centered person that I am :)…thought…HOLY MACKEREL where did I go wrong? Did I raise her incorrectly? Who doesn’t miss shopping? Is that even normal? Is that even healthy?
And then I answered myself..and said, “Of course, it is. My daughter is absolutely brilliant (I DID raise her right) and is doing exactly what she should be doing…
…considering the situation…which is pretty frightening and horrible…and unknown.
DO YOU want to be that dumb girl who always goes down the basement when she hears a strange noise…even though she knows the power could go out at any moment because it’s storming and it’s thundering and it’s lightning…AND…the light from her flashlight is really dim because the batteries are old (she tested it)…AND…she just heard on the television that there is a homicidal maniac who has just escaped from a nearby prison…and is on the loose…in HER … neighborhood..?
I didn’t think so. Me neither.
Have a nice day…
The Paperback Edition…
I sighed and flipped the notebook back on the night stand.
“I miss you mom,” I whispered. I closed my eyes but not quite fast enough to stop hot tears from running down my cheeks. I reached over to grab a Kleenex. When would this horrible pain go away?
Last year…after a couple of halfhearted attempts…I had finally decided to get my own place.
I had lived at home while I was going to the University of Minnesota in order to save money…and since my mom and I were such good friends…living with her was a pleasure and just pure joy.
But I knew that after I had been working for a while that it was time to get my own house…and…it would be a smart investment for me.
We had had so much fun looking around for places in the Hawthorne area of Minneapolis…the neighborhood where I lived now…where in fact I had been born.
I wanted to get a house close by so I would be able to walk to the same shops and favorite restaurants that I did now…or even walk to mom’s house if I wanted. Why venture too far away from the nest, right?
But then she had been senselessly killed and my life had been shattered.
I simply could not move. Dad had died when I was 7 and even though I had only vague memories of him, they were all connected to this house.
I saw a man raking leaves or shoveling snow or walking up the back steps. But then that quick puff of memory would float away.
My mom had been a passionate gardener and the yard and boulevard were filled with trees, bushes and flowers that she had raised from little sprouts…just like me.
No. I wasn’t moving…not for a long time. Maybe not ever…