At what I hope is the tail end of adjustment to our new assignment, yesterday I jumped at the opportunity for a mini-reunion with my friend, Jess, who had a long layover at nearby BWI. A multi-hour conversation tucked inside a Chick-Fil-A near the airport brought with it a healthy helping of chicken soup for my soul (hence the title). We laughed, we updated, we vented, we commiserated, we confessed. It was just what I needed, if only for a couple hours. But it was during the hour drive back home, that I reflected on not just how much I treasure our friendship but WHY it is so important to me.
I first “met” Jess in 2007 via email through a mutual friend who knew we were both Hawaii-bound. Jess emailed me by way of introduction, and when I sent back a lengthy, novel of an email Continue reading
Years ago, I started a blog on a whim. I made one post and never returned to it. I just found it, and thought it made sense to include it here. If the woman described in this story is still alive, she would be 91, and her husband 93. I remember this conversation clearly, and I recall how impressed I was listening to her. At the time, I was married with no children, working at a literacy organization and loving it. My daily walks with my dog (who’s unfortunately no longer with us) were a treasure, and on this particular day, when I veered from our usual path, I came upon another treasure: someone with a story to tell.
August 17, 2009
On my evening stroll with the dog, I decided to turn down a road I’d never taken before. Halfway down the block, an unfamiliar voice called out to me, Continue reading
It was Christmas Eve 2008, and I was plummeting toward the Earth with a pony-tailed man strapped to my back. Wait, that’s not how you celebrate Christmas Eve?
When Mike first indicated that he and his brother were planning to go skydiving over the holidays, I rolled my eyes and told him resignedly to let me know when he made it to the ground. Mike’s whole family – mom and three siblings – was visiting us in Hawaii for the holidays. We’d all decided that a Christmas spent basking in the perfect Hawaiian sunlight was much preferable to shivering in Midwestern snow, and then Mike and his brother had decided that there was no better way to celebrate the birth of Christ than by jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.
And that’s when a snowball started rolling, right there under my perfect Hawaiian sun. Continue reading