the lump in my throat

i have been borderline crying

all month.

so far, this is what i have done:

(and pretty much in this order):



i have gotten married.

i have resigned my current job

and have started looking

for another.

i have arranged to get rid of my stuff.

i have begun to tell people good-bye.

i have noticed the

snow.

i have noticed the cold and the ice and the

snow.



i have walked through my home, trailing my

fingers

along the

walls.



i have attended a "black"

church.



i have woken up with a stranger in my

throat.



i have said to anyone who will listen,

look.

none of these changes

changes my mind. none of these emotions

trumps 

love.



because saying good-bye to a good life matters,

only if you are not saying hello



to the

best one.

what to eat during the game tonight

unless you're sick, you like food. and even if you're sick, you're waiting around not to be sick so you can like food again.


food is a funny thing. it's personal but it's also very cultural. there are certain foods that certain groups of people tend to eat and certain foods that certain groups of people don't tend to eat. like, say, macaroni and cheese:

until maybe 20 years ago or so, i had never in my whole life heard of eating macaroni and cheese on thanksgiving (or for Christmas). i had an african-american client tell me about 20 years ago that his favorite part of thanksgiving dinner was the macaroni and cheese. and i was like........what?????? 

i repeated my question to him, "what's your favorite part of thanksgiving dinner," and he repeated his answer - macaroni and cheese. i was tempted to change his diagnosis from depression to major depression - with psychotic features.

but, he opened a door for me and by walking through it, i learned, for the first time in my life, that african-americans like to eat macaroni and cheese on thanksgiving. my discovery hardly altered the course of civil rights in this country but it did make me wonder why whites don't eat it, too. i mean, come on.........macaroni and cheese????? you can't get any better than that.


two days after thanksgiving this year (well, last year, i guess.....2014), rudy and i had breakfast with a (caucasian) friend and her (caucasian) ex-husband who's probably going to be her (still caucasian) husband again if they can work things out which i'm pretty sure they can. but i digress.

we had breakfast with these white folks and somehow or other, macaroni and cheese on thanksgiving came up for discussion and my friend said, sure. they had macaroni and cheese for thanksgiving.

and i was like.........what???????

sure, she said. didn't you?

didn't i???????

yeah, she said. didn't you?

no, i said. i did not. i'm white, pal. WHITE. white people don't eat macaroni and cheese for thanksgiving.

well, she said, this white person does. (at which point, i think rudy may have been tempted to change seats with my friend's (caucasian) ex-husband who's probably going to be her (still caucasian) husband again. if they can work things out. which i'm pretty sure they can.)


from there, a discussion of macaroni and cheese and race relations unfolded and i was just as stunned to learn that white folks do eat macaroni and cheese on thanksgiving as i was to learn 20 years ago that african-americans do.


where have i been all my life???????


where has rudy's brother been?


shortly after the white breakfast/white people eat macaroni and cheese on thanksgiving thing happened, rudy and i visited his (yesssssss........african-american) brother. and rudy asked him how the macaroni and cheese on thanksiving was.

brother: the what?

rudy: the macaroni and cheese.

brother: blank stare.

rudy: didn't y'all have macaroni and cheese on thanksgiving?

brother: no.

me:  CRACKING UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

rudy (in disbelief): you didn't have macaroni and cheese on thanksgiving?????? did you have sweet potato pie?

brother: well, yeah. sure. we had sweet potato pie.



so, moral of the story is, have wings and potato skins for the game tonight.


GO BUCKS!

why i married rudy alan jones so fast

i remember back-to-school shopping and how before we ever set out to do it, my mom would always say, without fail, every year, "are you sure you don't want to wait and see what everybody else is wearing first? and then, after you know, we can go out and buy stuff?" and how, always, without fail, every year, i was like, why on earth do i need to know what everybody else is wearing?

(and, as it turned out, i never did need to know.)


i remember the first home i bought. i walked into the entry hall and said, yep, this is the one. i want it. and the realtor said, "don't you think you oughta look around first?" and i was like, why on earth do i need to look around first?

(and, as it turned out, i didn't need to look around first.)


i remember doing the exact same thing on home #2.


i have bought 3 cars without ever having test driven them. 3 of the best cars i have ever owned. actually, thee 3 best i have ever owned. and the only 3 i ever gave a name to. all the rest of them have disappeared, nameless, into the foggy, forgotten background.



and that is why i married rudy alan jones so fast.


a name that is not going to disappear into any kind of background. foggy, forgotten, or whatever.


ever.


because, when you know,


you know.