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Month: June 2019

June 2019

Missing Mallorca

A weekend on a Mediterranean island could have been mine.  Relaxing on the beach.  Admiring the mountains.  Perhaps a palace tour or a walk among the Moorish remains. It could have been mine, had I said yes. All of my friends were going. I was in the middle of my semester as a Spanish student in Barcelona, thanks to a program in which my room and board cost the same as it would have had I spent the semester in a Midwestern dormitory. A year and a half of straight A’s in my college classes hadn’t eliminated my fear of
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Added Bonus

“This is unacceptable.  Can I talk to your supervisor?” The woman was irritated and barking demands.  I waited patiently in line to check my daughter in to Children’s Hospital for a shoulder injury.  I was called up to the next available receptionist and beside the irate woman.  “I do not understand how this happened,” she complained further.  “She is NOT her mother. I am.”  Ah. I began to understand.  The receptionist explained that they had tried to call both parents and could not reach them.  Stepmom had brought the child in for medical care and they were obligated to provide
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Grandparents’ Visitation Rights in Nebraska

Grandparents can add a lot to a child’s life, especially when the child’s parents are divorced.  Unfortunately, when one spouse divorces another, they often “divorce” their ex’s parents as well.  In Nebraska, grandparents can go to court to request visitation rights for their grandchildren, but it can be an uphill battle since Nebraska requires very specific criteria to grant these rights. Nebraska’s grandparent visitation statutes allow a grandparent to petition for visitation only under the following conditions: One or both of the child’s parents are deceased. The child’s parents are divorced or in the process of getting a divorce. The
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Top Down Connection

The sun is shining. The sky is blue. The warm wind blows over me in my convertible with the top down. This is my charmed life. Grigio—named after his beautiful shade of silver—has two seats, a tiny trunk, and limited leg room.  He’s Italian, and for my season without children to shuttle or mulch to haul, he suits me and my life. As I exit the freeway I see a man standing on the median. The yellow light turns red. I stop. The figure wearing a heavy jacket on a June day is just a few feet from me.  I
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At His Best

It is hard for me to write about him.  In so many ways now he is just someone I used to know.  Strange that what seems like another lifetime ago, he was the person I used to know best.  This week would have been our 18th wedding anniversary, but instead time let 8 years slip in between us after our divorce. With this time hurts have healed and now, to me, he is simply “their dad.”  He is the father to our daughters. Without him, I no longer have to argue the point of making the bed in the morning,
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