High: 40°
Low: 29°
Sunrise
7:05 AM
Sunset
5:30 PM
Friday, February 10, 2012
Every once in awhile, as you’re strolling through life, moseying down the road of non-events and incidents, turning right at the corner of mundane and predictable … you might run right into a brick wall of enlightenment. You didn’t see it coming, you couldn’t predict its emphasis on you and you certainly were not prepared for the impact. But, the scenario has forever colored your world.
Finally, after years of a torture akin to water boarding, we’re at a point in our lives here in the asylum where the kids no longer require me to wake them via hair pulling, shuffle them, fertilize them and clothe them before they leave for school.
My son gave me an amazing Christmas gift this year.
My spirit is fizzling out, like a day-old highball.
My friend, Anne, has recently used her yoga-like finesse and zenability to cajole/bully me into joining her on a little hell-train I like to call “Pilates”.
For some of us this Thanksgiving, it may be challenging to unearth multiple blessings amidst the mud.
Right in time for Halloween, unbeknownst to me, I’ve apparently donned the mask of the Crypt Keeper. Except it’s not a mask. That’s right…I’m now older than dirt. Older than Hugh Hefner, Phyllis Diller and Betty White. And, quite frankly, Betty looks better than me these days.
Last October – right in time for Breast Cancer Awareness Month – I was rudely and without ceremony, personally made aware. My segue into this new world began in the way many breast cancers take center stage…via a lump, about the size of a pea, under my arm.
I used to love rainstorms.
I had a column prepared for this week. It was the usual frivolity, mayhem and ridiculousness.
My daughter repeatedly informs me she never intends to have children. How sad, I think. I feel like my real life did not begin until I became a mother. She insists that she can never imagine being in charge of a child and responsible for everything from brushing their teeth to doing what you must do with an infant suppository. She shakes her head dismissively when I tell her there is nothing, and I mean nothing, in this world that is a more difficult, but a more satisfying and monumental task than raising a child. To give her the bigger picture, in all its cinematic brilliance, I shared with her a few key points to being equipped for the best job she will ever have, with no lay-offs, kick-backs or sabbaticals. It’s a lofty gig, which requires intense preparation, like Moses prepared for splitting that sea in two. It’s just that hard and just that miraculous.