This weekend, seven years ago. I thought my heart would break in two and never recover. It was a time I had dreaded for a number of years: the weekend I took Quinn to college. I would never have chosen for Quinn to leave. I loved having him across the hall; I adored seeing him everyday, and our 18 years together flew by all too fast. But the thing is, my life, all our lives, couldn’t grow, evolve and get even better, until we accepted that first hard change of moving Quinn to college. Let me tell you a story from Quinn’s drop off day: Freshman weekend there were a…
Dr. Marry and Me
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Daily Dose is one, and there’s so much to celebrate!
If we went back and analyzed all the episodes of this last year, I'd bet "shame" is the most used word. I want Daily Dose to grow its reach because shame is such an awful place to live. Dr Marry and I were both residents there for many years, and we know exactly how damaging that address is. The interesting thing about Shameville is that it's not just for addicts and their families.
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Now I gotta cut loose, footloose…
I didn't do anything particularly incredible yesterday, minus start to articulate my performance art piece to Laura—that is going to be incredible, but more on that as it develops. Yesterday wasn't for dong anything incredible. Yesterday was for stopping to mark the transition between a life of "have to" to "get to." It was a day for reflecting on where I was 25 years, 6 months and 27 days ago and where I am now.
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Lilly lessons
And at 3pm yesterday afternoon, we slowly and sadly walked back to the vet's office, our girl doing her best to walk straight, never much of a strength of hers (we often called her Seabiscuit), and sat on the floor of the vet's office while she slowly and peacefully slipped away.
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Lucky 13
On a Monday or Wednesday in mid-March, 2008, Dr Marry and I were walking our pup Lilly. He had recently found out he had been hired for a tenure-track position at MSUM, so we had a measure of stability that we'd never had before, since his positions had all been temporary, first as a post Doc and then as a fixed-term professor. I know exactly where we were on the walk when a feeling of absolute certainty spread over me, and I said, "You know, if you asked me to marry you again, I would have a different answer." (The first proposal is a story for a different day.)
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Springtime despair
In many ways, I regret the surge of frantic energy around work, as if we have to make up for the past 15 months right now. RIGHT NOW! There is no making up for it. It was both a lost and a blessed period of time. I want to hold on to the gentle, quiet pace. My safe little bubble, where I joyfully lived for these past many months, is being forced open. I'm watching my hopes and dreams, routines and patterns dissipate out the open doors and windows, and try as I might, I'm afraid I'll never catch them and bring them back close to me again.
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Now I’m married to an American?
I hurt his feelings terribly one day when I said, "Become a citizen, but you'll never BE American anyway." What I meant was that he will never have our Manifest Destiny propaganda, I mean spirit; he'll never tromp through the world with our sense of clueless, boisterous entitlement. He'll always have a sense of empathy for the underdog because his dad had to sleep on a park bench when he first arrived in England because no one would rent a hotel room to an Irishman. He'll always be comfortable with multiculturalism because, for all their ongoing struggles with race, England does seem to better embrace it than America does. He'll…
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Life Lessons from afternoon tea
You will find yourself reflecting often on that three-tiered platter of exquisitely designed sandwiches, scones and desserts. Engage in small shifts in thinking, intention and action and you will find the same thing: these are experiences that change you, in small ways at first but, taken as a whole, in ways that stay with you long after you've moved on.
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I double dog dare you…
And I had that awful, slow dawning of understanding that I have been holding on to this for the entirety of my life because it has "served" me to cast myself as a victim. When I use an oft-repeated phrase that I heard growing up as the reason why I can't do this or that; when I allow it to hamper the deep intimacy I have ever had with any man, including my husband; when I give it more credibility than my intellect, my accomplishments, my spirit, heart and dreams, then whatever failures I have had or might have if I take too big a leap can be passed off…
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There’s something about the Irish
But what’s the real appeal of Ireland and its people? As a land mass, Ireland is tiny—North Dakota is 2 ½ times its size. When I was there with my husband, we traveled from coast to coast in just over three hours.
