It’s been a year since I started this blog.
My commitment was to put it out there
It, I mean Me…put me out there
I might write something I’m unsure of
Something that makes me feel uncomfortable
Something that makes me think I’ll be judged
I post it
Float it out there
I’m surprised with the response I receive
a post on Facebook
or an email
‘me too, I’ve felt that way too’
with the letting go
I’ve create space
for new friends
even more love
Space enough for a huge party
Yes, that’s right
I’m planning my BIG birthday party.
Lists upon lists
Lists upon lists of
Caterers to call
Lists upon lists of what to do next
a backyard barbeque
with Ruffles potato chips and
has turned into
a catered event
we’ve planted new grass
Fabulous at 50
Maybe that’s what the cake will read
The other day someone asked if Bill and I were going to have children
“We gave it the college try.” I said, my arms around Bill.
“That was a compliment”. Bill said to me on the way home, “He thinks you’re 40.”
Some years ago, when I was still mourning miscarriages, my best friend from high school had called me. I wrote about our conversation.
Naomi hadn’t changed. She was judgmental, tight, nasty. At her wedding, a weekend affair in La Quinta, she asked me which of her guests I thought was the prettiest. It’s your wedding Naomi, do you really care? I said or I thought, I can’t remember which. In high school she was the pretty one everyone wanted to date. She called me to catch up, she said. She was complaining about her husband, how he wouldn’t let her talk on her cell phone when he was around her, he needed her undivided attention, he was like a kid; her friend had hung up on her during a political discussion, (Naomi loves Rush Limbaugh). Her Laguna vacation house was under construction; she wouldn’t be able to spend weekends there with her three kids, husband and two of their four cars. She asked me how much money Bill and I earned. She asked how large our home was and how much we bought it for. She had a checklist. She asked about our vacations, our boat, our cars and then “Well you guys can do whatever you want because you don’t have kids.” She said. Spitting at me through the phone line..
In that piece I wrote about the assumptions people might make because Bill and I don’t have kids. Like my Dad used to say to me, Assume makes and ass out of u and me.
I thought about getting a t-shirt. The front would read, I DON’T HATE KIDS and on the back, JUST REPRODUCTIVELY CHALLENGED.
I choose to glide into this new chapter
why carry with me
that belongs to someone else?
It has nothing to do with me
That was then
And this is Fabulous