You know you’re ready for summer when sitting outside Michaels waiting for a kid to emerge from her search for end of the year project necessities feels like a beach moment. When a shady parking spot, a strong breeze blowing in through open windows and the hum of Central Expressway traffic sounds like waves rolling in from a distant ocean actually induces dozing, I think it’s fair to say – someone needs a vacation. “YAAHHH!!!!” pops errand girl from below my window. After laughing at me jumping out of my skin and screaming, she added, “Were you asleep?” Her sister chimed in, “Maawwwmmm!!! That is so embarrassing.” Embarrassing?! What does she mean, embarrassing? Clearly I’m tired. And how rude to abruptly end my moment. I could almost see the cabana boy at hand, ready to bring me a cool and refreshing drink.
On Wednesday last week, I called my mom to let her know I was running a tiny bit late. I instantly knew by her pause that something had happened. She forced words through a tight throat of stifled sobs, “Lucia didn’t wake up this morning.” Sweet Lucia. One of my parents’ lifelong and dearest friends. The mother of one of my lifelong and dearest friends. In fact, our families crossed on three of each other’s four children. I never remember a time without the Waggoners in my life. “She didn’t wake up,” my mom choked again. This time the dam holding back tears broke. She released a flood of sobs, deep heartbroken, already missing her friend, sobs. Then she tried to quickly gather herself. We had a houseful of guests coming in less than an hour to have coffee with the wonderful Jim Daly from Focus on the Family. Bush Library
Today’s entry is a tiny bit diff. It’s something from my sister-in-law (BFF) who lives in Georgia. They too decided to stay-cation for their spring break this year. And after reminiscing of our roller skating days and Lessons from the Roller Rink, she and her neighbor took their kids to Alpharetta’s rendition of White Rock Skate. Needless to say, her experience was a tiny bit different than our fun day. While gliding the rink next to her visually impaired (that’s a different ahhhh-mazing story), she somehow tripped and fell and shattered her ankle. Thankfully her neighbor is a nurse and kept calm until the ambulance arrived. Thankfully they live close to phenomenal health care. Hilariously, her 17-y-o son captured it all on his phone and instagrammed most of the experience – puffed up proud that
We have a new friend. Her name is Tabasco. We didn’t name her. In fact, no one is sure who did. Tabasco, a sweet little calico cat, roams my parent’s block. The next-door neighbor feeds her. Every kid on the block searches for her … so they can play with her. My kids adore her. But my folks can’t stand her. And, despite my mother’s valiant efforts to shoo and the lack of a warm welcome, Tabasco spends a great amount of her day in their flowerbed. In fact, almost every time we come to the front door, Tabasco’s loud “mrweoow”s can be heard. She’s quick to leave her resting spot and run our direction all while vigorously announcing herself. She craves attention. Our kids eagerly desire to give it to her. But, as soon as one of the children (or I) bend down to offer a gentle stroke or scratch behind her ears, she darts away.