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Tag: Koenig Dunne Divorce Law

Koenig Dunne Divorce Law

The Lucky Ones

“I am lucky my parents are divorced.”  This statement uttered from the mouth of my nine year old at dinner the other day.  A classmate had confided in her that her parents fight all the time and this classmate’s dad asked her what she thought if her parents got divorced.  She went to Sophia to find out what that might really be like.  Sophia’s reply was an honest one. She explained, “I told her she gets two Christmases and birthdays.  My mom is always happy and it is better than being in a house with fighting.”  Anna, who is nearly
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Sunny Detox

My head encased in a flurry of bright yellow yarn and wearing a giant yellow dress retrieved from the prop box, I stepped onto the platform as the emcee for talent night. As “Sunny”, I held the toy microphone and appeared a cross between adorable and absurd. Unable to discern any talent of my own, I had volunteered as the master of ceremonies to celebrate concluding a week of an intense cleanse of mind and body. Since our arrival, we had eaten small plates of raw vegetables for breakfast, lunch and dinner, with the exception of three days when we
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A Stranger Scenario

“Whatever, Mom!” and up went her eyes rolling into her forehead.  My hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as I forced myself to focus on keeping my Irish temper at bay.  My eleven-going-on-twenty-seven-year-old daughter, Anna, had just disclosed to me that she had, let’s say, not been as helpful when a teacher asked for assistance as I thought she should have been.  When I said so, this prompted my first experience with both a “whatever” and an eye roll.  Double whammy day.  I knew to be quiet and let her sit with it. Later that evening, she came
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Trek Up the Tower

I was sweating. I clung to the handrail, lugging each leg up the next step. My head down, my chest heaving as I struggled to breathe, I heard someone shout “Only 7 more flights!” I wanted to cry. In the midst of an exuberant office holiday party I had I declared “I’m in” with more enthusiasm than thoughtful consideration when our paralegal Wendi invited me to trek up the tower. Saying yes without asking a single question was my first mistake. I thought I was signing up to climb 27 flights of stairs. I neglected to notice that the tallest
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Fully Flushed

Do you seek the feeling of pure, unadulterated accomplishment?  I discovered the secret a weekend or so ago and here is the step-by-step guide: 1. Have a broken toilet that will not flush. 2. Google and watch approximately five videos of guys in garages telling you how you can fix anything (you can do it!). 3. Take a trip to Home Depot to acquire $4 parts. 4. Put hand in disgusting back end of toilet for the first time in your life and remove and reinstall brand new shiny red flapper thing. 5. Flush toilet. 6. Start fist pumping and
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Enthusiastic Expectations

I had felt safe in the expectation that the reservation he made at our favorite Indian restaurant in the Old Market signaled a sweet night ahead. Sitting opposite one another in the booth, a small candle flittered as we beamed at one another across the linen table cloth. He reached to retrieve a small rectangular gold box with an extraordinarily elegant matching bow and placed it in front of me. My heart leapt at the sight of it. I love beautifully wrapped packages, and this was exceptional. Given its shape and size, I suspected a bracelet. I desperately tried to
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Angel Oak

We crossed over cobblestone sidewalks on King Street, arm in arm, with warm chocolate covered praline samples melting in our mouths.  We toasted our near thirty years of friendship over dinners of seafood, grits, and fried green tomatoes. We marveled at Rainbow Row and smooshed up against each other in a horse drawn carriage traveling through the historic streets of Charleston.  We shopped through the city market and found necklaces depicting the South Carolina Angel Oak that we soon thereafter adopted as a symbol of our friendship and bought for treasured twin tokens. Traci and I hadn’t seen each other
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Retreat. Reflect. Remember.

The wind pulled the cold temperature to single digits as the gray sky stared down at the brown patches of dirt amidst the snow. Looking out the window, I saw a few determined leaves cling to their branches as they  whipped back and forth. It was the first evening of my solo retreat, and the fireplace and my candle were my best companions. To retreat, to withdraw, to pull back. None of these come naturally for me. I prefer to advance to the next level, to introduce myself at the slightest opportunity, and to push forward toward my goals. Nevertheless,
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Courtroom Care

I could feel it before I could see it.  I knew immediately that something was off.  I walked down the courthouse corridor, unaware at first that I was walking directly down the battle line.  I spotted my client and his family nervously waiting for me.  I did not recognize, because they were strangers to me, that his wife and her relatives sat on the bench opposite.  As soon as I stopped and stood before my client and his family I could see them all avoiding any direct glances over my shoulder.  The “other side” was behind me.  The tension bore
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New Year Anew

Photo by: Larry Ferguson The first text arrived at 3:16 on Saturday afternoon. “Explosion at M’s today. It’s on fire.” Despite my usual disdain for 24 hour news, I obsessively checked all available sources around the clock for details in every update on the destruction.             All the building glass blown out.             Flames shooting from top of building.             Entire roof engulfed in flames.             Smoke and debris filling the air.             All the people running.             60 firefighters.             Fourteen homes.             A timeless treasure.             A total loss             A tragedy. Despite the news, miraculously no one
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