Sunday, April 27, 2008

Letter to Kim

I found this letter when I was cleaning up files on my computer. I wrote it to a friend or cousin I think of my sister-in-law's. She died from cancer. Good reminder to me to be grateful for my life and time with my son.

Dear Kim,

I am a friend of Rebecca Thorpe's. She told me you've been ill and now one of your children is as well. Although I hear you are all doing better. I wanted to find something funny to send to you to cheer you up. If we still lived in North Carolina, I could send you any one of a million postcards depicting the indigenous redneck. But we are living here in Connecticut now, home of the stiff upper lip.

Dragonflies are a symbol of good luck or that is what my mother always said. I decided to look up a description of their symbolism and this is what I found:

Dragonfly symbolism crosses and combines with that of the butterfly and change. The dragonfly symbolizes going past self-created illusions that limit our growing and changing. Dragonflies are a symbol of the sense of self that comes with maturity. Dragonflies are reminders that we are light and can reflect the light in powerful ways if we choose to do so. "Let there be light" is the divine prompting to use the creative imagination as a force within your life. They help you to see through your illusions and allow your own light to shine in a new vision.

I was thinking what it must be like for you as a mom, being sick and probably worried about your kids. I have a 5 year-old boy myself. And I was thinking about the day I became a mom and how truly humbling that experience was. I guess becoming a mom and being one every day is a good example of moving out of a state of illusion and getting right down to the nitty gritty. Carrying a diaper bag and a 20-pound infant around in a car seat while you are lactating is certainly something that changed how I perceived my formerly so-cool self.

And there are many days when I think that I will give up. I'm beaten down. I'm eating Teddy Grahams for lunch and I'm yelling at my kid in a voice that sounds exactly like my mother's and I think this is it. I am no longer the superwoman I was in my 20's. I am so far from Sex and the City it is not even funny.

And then there are days when I know I am stronger because of what I do and have done. And somehow I am a part of making this great kid. Sure my stomach is kind of poochy and I prefer elastic waistbands to buttonfly. But I can hold my head up high because I know that I am finding out who I am when everything is stripped away.

So what I wish for you is health and a long life for you and your kids. And I hope that somehow you see what you have been through as a way of finding your true self while you are still a young woman. Just think how free you would be then. Nothing would really get in your way because you've already done the hard stuff. Then you'd be one of those women who just gleams, because you know the light is within you.

All best wishes,
Becky Risher

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Wednesday, April 23, 2008

10 Things You Don't Know About Women

This is my list for Esquire, whenever they decide I'm a Woman They Love.

1. We get the whole Angelina Jolie thing. We just don't like it.

2. Why don't you get the Tina Fey thing?

3. Sometimes we fall out of love with you. Don't worry, it usually comes back.

4. When we come home and you're watching ESPN and secretly crying about some inner city kid's program, that's about as hot as you're ever going to get.

5. When you're caught in the act of doing something silly with our kids, that's also very hot.

6. For the most part, naked man feet peeking out from the bottom of well-worn jeans, is a turn-on.

7. This could be an urban legend, but I've heard that men's noses and ears continue to grow their entire lives. Scary.

8. All women fall in love with the little things. You cannot fake the little things.

9. When you forgo the little things, thinking a big pair of earrings will do the trick, you're sunk.

10. All women are a hell of a lot more beautiful than men. So treat us right. Every one of us.

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