Someone Worth Writing About

At 10:30 last night, I sat down at the kitchen table prepared to write. Ideas and events had been swirling around in my head through days of constant activity; and though it had been weeks -- maybe months -- since any part of me had seen such a late hour of the night, I figured I'd strike while the iron was hot. At 10:31, our fifteen-year old plopped down into the chair across from me and the deluge began. She is in her second year of high school; there were schedules and friends to discuss. Somehow that all became a trip down memory lane filled with dozens of "do-you-remember-whens" -- many of which I did not. But she remembered. And, I hope, it is this night she will remember as well.

When Olivia and I first met, I and my children were a family of three; she, her dad, and her siblings made us a family of seven. I loved the noisy dinners and crazy bedtimes. I loved taking up pews and rows at the movie theater and SUVs and two lanes at the bowling alley. I loved the constant motion in our home; the hum of life. Olivia was a huge part of that hum for me; she and I bonded instantly. Her easy-going temperament and her transparency were a rare treat in one so young. Olivia, too, seemed to thrive on the excitement and activity of a full house; but she was, at the same time, her own person.

Only a short time later, my son, the oldest left our home; her brother and sister followed suit shortly thereafter. For the remaining few years my daughter remained in our home, she and Olivia never truly bonded. But Olivia was always there, hanging with me in the kitchen, talking on our rides home, and weathering the emptiness that came whenever others moved on. With Olivia and I, it was never blood or biology, but the moments we spent laughing and talking to one another that made us family.

So, this is it; this is what I have to offer my readers. Not much to speak of with regard to profundity or motivation. Just gratitude. For an incredible daughter, a strong and truly courageous young woman, and nights when writing is not nearly as important as living. I'm gonna remember this.