ONCE upon a time; long, long ago; in a place far, far away... I was born at 6:15 a.m. on Friday, July 31, 1953 in the town in which I'm apparently destined to live my whole life, Elkhart, Indiana, USA. That early-morning birth trauma could explain why my natural inclination is to try to sleep through that time of day. I was a sweet, well-behaved toddler. We will disregard the stories about my fascination with pulling pots and pans out of the cabinets and the blood test for which it took three nurses to hold me down. THE story of my life goes fairly quickly. Although a trip-over-your-own-feet shy school kid who buried her nose in a book, I did occasionally manage the time-honored compliment of a kick to the shins of favored boys. One of my proudest moments: the autograph in my book at the end of the school year which read, "To a girl who can kick like a mule." And I was aghast yet delighted by being called "Spider Legs" by the guy I was secretly, madly in love with through my school years. SO. Here I am. Adult girl-next-door. Still wash'n'wear hairstyle and 2-minute makeup job. Still quiet pastimes: reading; my pets; gardening; bird watching; art shows. Well okay. Being a NASCAR enthusiast seems out of place. But there have to be some anomalies, or I'd be so boring I'd put even myself to sleep. At least my shyness is less obvious now. LIFE thus far has been by chance rather than by design. So after making my share of typical bad choices and wrong decisions, and allowing feelings of helplessness and lethargy to direct my path, I'm trying to learn to make life happen rather than let life happen. It remains to be seen how successful I'll be. In the event I don't accomplish that, I'm also trying to remember that life isn't really about what happens after you reach certain goals; it's more about the journey along the way. |
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