Soul Sister Adventures

  I don’t think I have told you about the day the soul sisters met? It was an ordinary day in Montvale, NJ. The two girls, aged 7, were set to start school. I am sure they both started their days like any other children of their age. Excited and apprehensive of the new chapter in their lives. Their parents no doubt gave them a hearty breakfast and explained to them, with great excitement, about the wonderful world at their fingertips. Regina awoke that day and immediately ran to her fathers side, “Daddy! Today I am a big girl!!” Regina loved both of her parents, but her mother provided the structure, and her father, the comfort. Regina’s other comfort, the classic TV show “I love Lucy”. From when she was a little girl, she loved that show. She didn’t love TV, she loved that show. She, like most people, were both enamored and intrigued by the comical genius of a silly Scottish redhead. Such a simple plot, such captivating entertainment. Life wasn’t easy for Regina or most children ...

When Regina’s dad died, she kind of lost her place in the world. To the rest of the world, she still offered a bright light and a warm heart. But within herself, she felt lost. When Regina was with Maggie, she felt whole again. Maybe that is why she made the trip to Marymount that day. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was her Dad’s hand from heaven. Whatever it was, when Maggie emerged that day from the Dean’s office, what happened next changed the direction of her life. The Dean followed Maggie out of his office and extended his hand to Regina, “Come on in, young lady.” Regina, being a well mannered Catholic girl, did as asked and went right into the office. The Dean, assuming she was there for an interview, brought Regina in and asked her the interview questions and was clearly impressed. Because two months later, she received an acceptance letter in the mail. From Marymount…in the south. Tsk. Tsk.  Now of course I wasn’t there on the day the letter was received, but if I was a bettin...

  My mother. To know her is to love her, and to barely know her is to love her too. My mother, Regina, is sunshine, sugar and spice. Pollyanna. She grew up with her mom (she’s from the north, you know). Her dad died young, he died of a massive heart attack when she was in her early 20s.. She took the loss of her dad very hard. She was hardly at an age when she would be prepared to live without her dad. She used to follow him around - the house, the yard, the kitchen. You name it. They didn’t necessarily speak a lot, but she was always by his side. They both liked it that way, it suited them. I think people who knew Regina before this would claim that she was never quite the same after he was gone. Regina went through a few losses that chipped away at her core, but this was the first.  Regina was always sweet, quiet but secretly very mischievous. Her best friend, Maggie, was the leader of the pack and Regina was always her trusty sidekick. They ventured to wild places like Manh...

  Most events in life should really be dealt with following the generally applicable phrase “you need to calm down”. People, as if there is not enough to think about in real life, make, almost as a rule, mole hills into mountains. Heck, there are hardly any mole hills left. Take, for instance, my move home from my adult self proclaimed sabbatical to NYC.  When I was 28, I left my job and my dead end relationship, my apartment in the upcoming Reston Town Center, and moved to NYC. A dream I had in my heart for as long as I could remember. My Grammy worked on 5th Avenue. My Grandpa helped to create the light posts on the Avenue of the Americas. My great Uncle shed blood, sweat and tears building the Holland Tunnel. NY was in my blood. As the “southerner” of the family, God save the souls of those who had the audacity to be born south of the Mason Dixon line, I always felt a sense of lacking. Even my siblings had dared not venture south as they so selectively departed the birth ca...