For a week before the event the girls in my sixth grade class and I would whisper about what was to come.  We had heard about the dreaded visitor from previous classes and knew it was our time. 

Being the mother of four sons I have frequently had a hard time keeping up with fashion. 

Every once in awhile when I am at the gas station filling up my tank I have a profound moment.

As I walked into my third grade classroom the nausea that had started when I woke up that morning rose up in my throat. 

As a new nurse I had worked the night shift so after dinner I laid down to catch up on some sleep.  It was Thanksgiving and I woke to the loud voices of my family reminiscent of 20 years before on a cold Thanksgiving day. 

When I was in my 40’s struggling with being the best Mom, Nurse, Wife, Sister, Friend I could be, I thought that by my sixties (which at the time seemed very far away)  I would be satisfied with who I was. 

I had decided that I was NOT going to be “sweet 16 and never been kissed” so I actively sought out someone to kiss before I turned 16. 

I left the house begrudgingly my exhaustion seeping into my bones. 

We sat side by side on the steps of my childhood home, my best friend Julie and I.  We were both 12 years old and Julie was teaching me how to crochet.

I hated high school.  It was hard.  I was painfully shy and had no idea how to be a young woman. 

The woman on the other end of the line hesitated. She spoke haltingly, shyly even.

“Ok, this is going to sound really crazy.”

We headed to the worksite the first morning after we arrived in New Orleans.

I try not to lie. Most of the time I am successful but there have been a couple of times when I have lied and was consequently cosmically punished.

Thirty-six hours after my hip replacement and my blocks wore off I ended up in the ER by way of ambulance for uncontrolled pain.

I’m trying to get tables set up for a big Thanksgiving Dinner. 

Once upon a time I was the unwitting participant in a drug ring at a long term care facility.