She has been waiting for the love of her life for half a century. She just wishes he wouldn’t shed so much.
As the car sped down the highway, she mused that she never thought she would die alone. Especially sitting in the passenger seat of a moving car.
After casing the joint for two weeks, the seasoned thief silently jimmied the door and stepped inside, confidently knowing the homeowner was elderly. Unfortunately, the German Shepherd in the living room was not.
The blood test came back positive for paternity. Unfortunately, they were already married.
She always hoped she would received an unexpected windfall. She never thought it would be brought by a tornado.
I am not who I am without her. My childhood without her is hollow. Every other photo from ages three through ten includes her.
How would our lives have been different if the accident on July 25, 1991 hadn’t happened? We didn’t know at the time how the world would change. Losing her mom and baby sister were hard, but the following days were kind of fun at first. For two months my friend and her sister lived at our house, just like the sisters we always thought we were. We had no idea that the link between our families was breaking.
Everything changed that year. Our social group was different. The stress likely caused my mom’s cancer. We started school that year, as her mom was no longer around to homeschool her. Her father remarried and they found a new church.
I held on for years after that and we made some effort at a friendship. It took me more than a dozen years to realize that her life became something I was no longer a part of. There were highlights and fond memories after that, but efforts to hold us together were in vain. When life became real, we no longer understood what the other was going through.
I mourn for her every day. I am aware of some aspects of the life she leads, which she has chosen not to let me be part of. As I have learned the reality of my own life – mental illness, poor choices – I remember that she rejected it. She rejected me.
Time heals some. Time damages other. What was can no longer be. Part of me hopes for something new in the future, but is also afraid to find out. Maybe it is better to let it go.
She always knew the day would come that she would hand over the reigns of the family business. She never thought it would be to Bank of America.
She cheerfully sang along to “The Little Red Wagon” song; her nanny charge’s favorite. Then she remembered there were no children in the car.
The beep of the cash register was familiar and after working in a grocery store for over a year, she hardly noticed it. Then she woke up.
“Congratulations on your purchase!” I read, when the Groupon screen confirms acceptance of her credit card. As if I have accomplished something. As if I should be proud that I just got some stuff in exchange for money. As if my life and character are better because I went shopping.
Perhaps that is how the companies win. “I’m worth it” when I buy L’Oreal. I can “Have it [my] way” at Burger King. Gatorade needs to be in me. “I’m Lovin’ It” at McDonalds as I regret the Double Quarter Pounder I just ate. And, of course, I’ll have a Diet Coke “because I can”. What does that even mean?
Though satisfied with my purchase of a discounted car maintenance package, I remind myself to keep an eye on my bank account. Hopefully my ability to think for myself outweighs my ability to be persuaded. My pocket book is counting on it.