Posted by: Brenda Kula | December 31, 2007

End Of Year Musings

This is the first entry of my new blog. This is the first day of the rest of my life. Actually, it is the last day of 2007, never to be seen again in the history of time. It is also the 50th year of my life. Timing seems a bit auspicious, huh?

I am sitting here in my office/studio with one of my two dogs, Abigail, on my lap chewing her left front paw. She does that a lot. Sits in my lap. Chewing her paws. I have just rubbed a paw ointment on them, which tends to make her even more agitated. She is a Yorkie, like her easier-to-deal-with-and-less-problematic brother, Charlie. She has many odd quirks, like her Pet Mama. I also have two cats, Bonnie and Clyde; two pond fish outside, Survivor and Spot. And I had a saltwater aquarium set up by a service a few days ago. It sits humming behind me, although it is merely "cycling", they tell me. And thus it is empty, save for the $97 worth of "live rock" arranged inside it. In a month, they will add coral and/or a few fish. I haven’t revisited this particular hobby since my daughters were small, and they are of course grown women now.

I am a woman of many creative passions, a former quilter (arthritis captured that particular artistic expression), collage artist (can you call yourself that just for kicks?), avid gardener, and I have many interests. One of those interests is reading. I just finished reading "The Girls Who Went Away" by Ann Fessler. Excellent research. True stories of girls-now-women who once gave up a child for adoption before Roe-v-Wade, and the lifetime of trauma it imposed. I was only moderately interested when I received it from Amazon.com, but could not put it down. The myriad emotions it evokes twists and twines itself around your heart and soul. I was a teen mother myself, but the-boy-I-thought-was-my-soulmate got another girl pregnant about the same time, though he had pledged his love and life to me and we/I thought we wanted to get married. But alas, she had a father in the wings ready to pounce on him, whereas I was alone in the world. So he married her instead. I kept my daughter, though now I look back and wonder how on earth I managed to get by, have a roof over my head, finish highschool with my classmates, and remain sane. With or perhaps without my maternal instincts, she has grown into a beautiful, loving woman and mother who I am immensely proud of, and who is my friend. She is 33 now. Her sister is 29. They are wonderful adult children who I stare at from afar in wonder. How did I manage to get them to this point in time? 

My husband is a psychiatrist. Which makes me a lucky woman. Because his work affords me the life I so love. Getting to stay home and create whatever I desire, watch HGTV whenever I want to, tend my beloved gardens, and be with my pet children.

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