I was walking out of church with my mom when she asked if I would go to a party for her doctor.  It wasn't supposed to be anything big, just celebrating 50 years of service as a family physician.  He delivered me, 31 years ago and I knew that she didn't want to go alone, so I decided to go.

We arrived and said our Hellos... sat at a table with strangers who shared anecdotes about the good Doctor then sat for a short speech and presentation on him.

The man turns 80 tomorrow and sitting with these people, some of whom I did know, many I did not, I realized that this man is a dying breed.  He still carries a black doctor's bag... he still makes housecalls, and visits his patients in the hospitals when he has the time... he practices medicine the way that we all wish our doctors still would, but know that they no longer have the time or the means to do so.

Feeling the camraderie and sharing the jokes of a small town community... made me so glad that I brought my daughter back here to raise...

back home where I belong, and where she is finding her own place of belonging.

Hi

Hi?

I saw you yesterday when you were chatting with mija on the webcam.

Oh?

You look good... but a little sad.

Yeah. I miss her.

Do you miss me?

Excuse me?

My mom saw you too. She likes what you did with your hair. Guess she forgot how pretty you are.

Didn't she call me a bitch just a few weeks ago?

Yeah. Hmmmf. Guess that doesn't matter if you're still cute.

Oooook. Did you have a specific reason for calling?

No, I just wanted to say Hi.

Ok.

She thinks we're going to get back together.

She what?

She thinks I still love you.

Oh really?

I told her I do. She knows that I do.

Ummmm...

I know you love me too.

Love was never our issue.

Well, then what exactly is the problem? Why won't you just come home? If love isn't the issue then tell me please, what is it?

I've been telling you for fourteen months already, isn't it kind of late to be finally getting a clue?

Dammit! Just answer the damn question. I love you Chris, I know you still love me too. I know you do. I know I haven't been perfect, but dammit I wouldn't fly off the handle so much if you could just behave yourself. Fuck! If love isn't the problem then what is?

Everything else.

*click*

I'm taking off this pity party dress... I just wasted the last 24hours and I don't intend to waste anymore.

I've been avoiding things... important things... wasting time just waiting for my daughter to come back home... twiddling my thumbs and pining like a damn schoolgirl... ridiculous.

Time to get back to work.

On this:

On the personal front: divorce still not final.. not sure what is going on there, but going to work it out... being stuck in limbo is sucking my will to live and my sanity.

It was a typical Mexican boda... music that was too loud, drinks that were too strong, and women in dresses that were too tight. The children wailed because it was too late, and they were too tired, and were taken outside for being too rowdy by men who wore belt buckles that were too big.

I hadn't seen Brenda in more than ten years. Too long. Not since she was the chubby, rather unpopular girl wearing glasses with lenses that were too thick. I have always liked her, and because I was a bit of a freak of nature back in high school myself, I knew that we were two kindred. I always talked to her and often stopped by the house that was too rundown to chat with her madre in the sala.

We reconnected after I moved back to our hometown. She hadn't changed too much. She was still a big chubby girl, but some of that inner beauty had finally come through and was more visible in her face. I went in for a physical and she was working behind the counters at my new doctor's office, helpful and almost too sweet, as always. She told me that she was getting married, and that I had to come to the wedding. I gave her my congratulations and said that I would be happy to come. I left the office with my prescription, the appointment card she'd given me after scheduling my follow up, and her phone number which I lost somewhere in the black hole known as my handbag.

She dropped the invitation off at my parent's place and had invited our whole family... very nice of her, so I thought.

The truth is, I liked her... I always have, but I didn't really want to go. I had car trouble today, a batch of sick kittens, I am trying to recover from a trip to participate in two boring meetings that I really didn't need to attend. I was too tired and too grumpy and had no wheels. My parents were going; Mom said that she'd pick me up. It was too late to back out. So I got dressed up and we went.

She looked almost too radiant. The fact that it was her wedding day and she had the glow of a 27 year old virgin may have been part of that.

We ate food that was too spicy and washed it down with soda that was too warm. The music that was too loud and the announcer that was a little too jovial let us know that the traditional dollar dance was about to begin and that checks and food stamps would be accepted.  The sparse applause at the joke was too quiet in a room where the guests were too few.

Brenda's fiancee and I had met once before, too briefly. He's a very quiet, softspoken guy. He was too unfamiliar, so I didn't want to pay a dollar to dance with him. I took my dollar and got in line to dance with Brenda instead.

I pinned my dollar to her veil because I thought it was rude to poke a hole in her white satin. I told her, "I paid, so I get to be the boy!" She thought that was too funny.

We danced and I told her that she was beautiful, that I was too happy for her.

She said, "I'm too fricken' nervous!"

I said, "It's ok! It's the end of the day and you're married already! There can't be much to be too nervous about now!"

She said, "This place is too empty!" She looked at me with tears in her eyes and suddenly I realized... she was too sensitive.

Still the chubby girl with the glasses who was too insecure.

I said, "Look mija... your real friends, your true friends are all here. This is your wedding day! We all love you too much to see you crying!" I hugged her too tight and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She hugged me back and then a man was pinning another dollar to her dress. It was too soon! My turn was too short! I wiped one of her tears away, and she quickly kissed me back and gave me a smile that was almost too big.

I walked back to my folding chair, which was too hard.

The reception was too loud, it was too dark, but after that dance I was only too happy to stay and drink champagne that was too cheap and eat cake that was too dry.

I was glad that I didn't miss the dance of the Vivora... which was too chaotic.

but this trip down memory lane makes me wish I had paid more attention to myself back then:

To the Stranger in My House: