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Month: July 2016

July 2016

I Never Knew

Six words. Six words was the project assigned to my 6th grade daughter at the end of the school year. She was tasked with writing a six-word memoir of her life.  She completed the assignment and wrote: “I never knew they were unhappy.” I could think of a couple six word statements that I may have preferred: “I break for cats and books.” Or “I am happy, healthy, and whole!” Or “My mom is truly super awesome!” Any of these would have sufficed. Instead, five years later, she defined her life around her parents’ divorce.  This profound statement surprised and
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Remembering Angel

She carefully leaned into the microphone, her voice vulnerable with anticipation. Separated from her siblings, in and out of countless schools, she shared how she was packed up without warning and taken to a stranger’s house. How the second home, the one that followed the emergency one, was not a refuge but a haven for abuse. How she didn’t know if she would ever have a relationship with either of her parents again. As I examined her tiny frame and dark eyes I couldn’t discern Angel’s age. She spoke of years of being of repeatedly losing the few new friends
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The Truth

She is tough as nails.  Oftentimes she is in my office wearing a leather jacket and when talking her deep voice reveals a sharp wit and quick intellect.  She has short stylish spiked hair.  I assume that she intimidates a large percentage of people who cross her path.  As I prepared her for what her trial experience may be, I wondered how she may come across in court – this tough as nails mom. I was positive that even if I had suggested her wearing an appliqué sweatshirt with puffy kittens on it to soften her appearance, she would not
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Shame washed over me as quickly as my thought arrived, disturbing my relaxing read of the morning paper. The headline that Elizabeth Gilbert was getting divorced struck me with a sudden dash of vindication. The award winning author was separating from the man whom her million plus readers of Eat, Pray, Love knew as Felipe. After twelve years, which included publication of Gilbert’s other best seller, Committed: A Love Story, it was over. Why would I possibly feel any hint of satisfaction at the heartbreak of another? Did I dislike her? Had I become a cynic of marriage after decades
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