When I turned 49, I realized I would need to do something BIG and suitably impressive (to myself at least) before I turned 50. I decided on running a marathon — even though, or perhaps because, I has never been a runner in my entire life. I started training, trained for a month or two and got a twinge in my left knee/calf. I stopped, and waited a month for it to heal, and then just .. didn’t start again. Months went by, then I started training again without a marathon in mind. While training, I went to a breakfast with a board member and she recommended the Rehoboth Marathon as flat and not super busy but allowing lots of support. And it was on the weekend after my training was finishing! So I signed up, and my son signed up for the 1/2 marathon, and we got an Air BnB, and I did it! It took just over 6 hours and I walked the last three miles with four best friends who came to cheer me on, but I did it!

This year, for fitness, I decided to try and run every run in the Nike Run Club app. As a friend pointed out to me, I’d already done most of the long runs … so I had to run a half marathon, and several 5 mile etc. runs, but most of the long runs were done, and so I have done it. Well, I am doing it — but I keep taking months off and then time ticks by. I am now in the final stretch and needing to run every day for three months … which means lots and lots of short runs, but annoying when I am traveling.

Sept. 1 was my husband’s 54th birthday, and I thought — oh, I won’t run cause we will have such a delicious day! And we did! Until our flight was cancelled, late at night, and we had to drive the 13 hours back to DC that night and the next day. And Oliver stayed up with me and chatted while we drove — so we made it to North Carolina by 2:30 a.m., and then checked out by 8 a.m. and my husband drove the rest of the whole way home. Made it at noon, and got grocery shopping done, and started laundry (Jason and kids did) and … still had to run (yes, we were eventually getting back to running). Even though I only did a 15 minute one, I was just so drained and tired.

But! It’s RARE but it happens — that 15 minute run felt like I had improved a whole lot, and that I was doing well. So, I guess it’s good that the slog continues … And even though our transportation was terrible going down and back, we had really important times with my husband’s beloved mother and family.

I am feeling so many feelings about my middle child’s first week of high school — she doesn’t know many kids at her school, they have confiscated a knife from a kid, the power went out and it was 2 hours delayed, and this morning there was a gas leak. Feels like a very eventful first week of high school, while I am sure she will remember none of it except the friends she ended up making.

I was really deeply stressing about how I could HELP and I read something that was very smart (from Cup of Jo, the greatest blog still around!) that said kids don’t want you to (hypothetically) run the marathon with them; just give them water and hold up your sign and cheer for them. And that really checked me — I don’t need to run and solve how she is sitting alone at lunch, or thinking about her math/French teachers, or whatever. I just need to confidently believe she’ll get through it (I do believe this) and let her handle it.

Parenting! Another board member today said his child was coming home for the weekend, and he was so excited, but also sad — because it is the last visit before the child/spouse moves to Vancouver!! So … you know, it’s hard to picture how far away the children’s lives may be .. and how happy you are that they are so independent and wonderful … and how poignant it is. We used to eat dinner together! Every day!

My sister is having a very, very hard time right now, and watching how that affects my dad (and my sister) I’m just really glad our kids, as of now, seem to be okay. It’s hard to predict the future, or know how to talk to/with teens, or know how to support adult children — but that’s kind of true about all of life. It’s hard to know, but important to do.

While we have life to lead — we fly to Clyde’s funeral this evening, the funeral is tomorrow morning.

Man oh man, Allyson is starting 9th grade (three days ago) and she doesn’t know anymore than 5 kids in her HUGE school because she went to Montessori middle school. I switched to an unknown middle and an unknown high school — but at least at high school my mom forced me to join the drill team, so I knew people by the first day. But — her mom didn’t, so her first week has been really hard. Last night I thought she was crying at dinner, but I “accused” her of that and she stormed away. I know — you know, the world knows — it will be better, but explaining that to Allyson is just shouting into a void — no one things their parents know ANYTHING at 14. I sure thought my mom was a FOOL for making me join the drill team, which I stayed in all four years and really cherish the memories of (even marching in wool jackets in August and September in Texas …).

I also have been biking to work — today the whole way to work — because the last bus just is not reliable these days. It helps! I run in the morning and then bike to work and then don’t move again — not even one inch — all day. Except, you know, my partial bike ride home.

Jason and I met with the people who are taking over the neighborhood Halloween party (aka Allyson’s birthday party) last night — and they asked who was the ‘bad’ neighbor or who made it difficult. It’s so easy to complain, and so hard to be grateful, but on this party, which I did for 6 years, NO ONE is the difficult neighbor, and EVERYONE is just so happy to keep the 25 year tradition going. I have LOTS of complaints about ALL my neighbors, in general, but this party has just been a gift. But this year Allyson has not only outgrown it — we are going to be in NC for her beloved cousin Casey’s wedding to beloved Jordan! So, onward.

Sorry for rambling post; just important to write every day!

The kids are back in school (Oliver AND Allyson in high school, Eleanor in 7th) and so I can no longer take my magical 8 a.m. bus which drops me off directly as the next bus comes and I arrive at the office, with my bike, at 8:45. The 8:30 bus comes between 8:30 and never, and drops me off when it is a 12 minute wait to the next bus, thus forcing me to ACTUALLY ride my bike a few miles up a slight hill; even though I already ran in the morning …

The bike is vital to my commute anyway, I usually have 1-2 meetings during the day, and then always bike through Georgetown and over Key Bridge to catch the bus up the “hill” of Arlington to home.

Why, yes, I am whining. I like the OPTION to bike, but I love public transit! I would choose either, or walking if it weren’t so slow, over DRIVING, but goodness I love a resting time to read a book and chill out on the bus. But! I also love walking with Eleanor to her bus stop in the morning; so needs must.

My colleagues and I rode to a Nationals Game last week, and then I rode to the metro when a colleague rode all the way home. I remember those days, but now I just love how flexible my commute is — how I can bike, and bus, and metro, and walk, and bike, and still get from Point A to Point B. It’s never QUITE as fast as driving, but feels infinity safer and more peaceful to me.

But I do love to bike! And will love it even more when they flatten these hills out …

This weekend we flew to Texas on Friday night and were back at our home in Arlington on Sunday at noon … to say quick would be an enormous understatement. At the same time, it was an expansive and wonderful day. Basically the whole thing was only possible because of Dad and Nancy; they drove from Houston to San Antonio on Friday (in TWO CARS). They stopped at Luling to get us BBQ. They picked us up (the plane landed 10 minutes before a lightening storm would have diverted us to Austin, at least according to the pilot). We drove to Poteet, arriving at 9 p.m., and ate alllll the food. We all slept, and then woke up (I went on a quick HOT run), got ready in formal funeral wear, drove to breakfast tacos (Eleanor and Oliver doing stick shift!) and then enjoyed breakfast all together. THEN we headed to First Baptist Church, Pleasanton, where, it turns out, my mom and dad were married in 1968. Dad said mom was FURIOUS because Erwin was marrying them so the pastor was NOT supposed to speak and he gave a long sermon anyway. So, it was fun to see where they were married. Anyway, Djenadi was laid in the casket, and we got to see/meet, re-meet alllll the cousins. David and his wife Amy, Jes and her husband, Tammy and Paul, Mike and his children, Ruth Ann, Andrew, Ben, Luke (and spouses and children); and me and my family. We were missing Jennei and JT (who had visited just the week before) but otherwise all of my grandmother’s grandchildren were gathered. Most of her great-grandchildren, too, except JT’s three, were also there. I told the children they were going to meet 100 very important people they would not see again for a long time. Dad and Nancy also came. It was heartbreaking; the videos with the slideshow of photos make it all seem to go so fast. Djenadi was so VIBRANT and ALIVE and kind. Many, many of her friends and family spoke and EVERYONE talked about her kindness to animals, yes, but even more so her kind, generous nature with all of her extended and bedraggled nieces and nephews. It was so great to reconnect, and to be together. After the ceremony, and the burial, the cousins (minus most children, except Djenadi’s grandchildren) went to the Pleasanton Cemetery and buried a lock of Djenadi’s hair with Granny and next to mom’s spot. I think it was lovely, we all sang Amazing Grace. It was funny, after the funeral, while I was still crying, Oliver was like: HERE ARE THE KEYS, I AM NOT DRIVING STICK SHIFT IN THE FUNERAL CORTEGE. Which, fine, I may be pushing stick shift a bit hard. Allyson and Oliver just jumped right back in, E did the first time but then had a ton of trouble … O gave her a tip and she did it no problem the rest of the trip!

Then Jason and I drove to Poteet and we had a nap, played Ping Pong with the kids (though Allyson and I were not successful at convincing Oliver to play against us blindfolded, the only way we MIGHT have had a prayer of beating him). We collected ripe prickly pears for Nancy to make syrup with — all of us! — and we ate more BBQ and we ran to Dairy Queen and we just generally tried to squeeze every single moment of a one week trip into, you know, one day.

Nancy and Dad then woke up at 4:30 a.m. to take us to the airport at 5 to get there by 6. It was still dark and they then drove directly back to Houston. Our plane took off at 7 a.m. and we landed, I called dad to make sure they were okay, and they had JUST walked back into their home! Their generosity with driving two cars for so many hours, buying all of our meals, and just being excellent parents and hosts made the whole weekend so easy.

I find, in all of this, that I am just so grateful to my cousin, Tammy, who lives in San Antonio. She is very into genealogy and tracks down anyone you want to find. She is also very generous hearted and will drive a ping-pong table to Poteet, ahem, or come to your step-father’s funeral service in Pleasanton, or include you in her visit to Djenadi as she passed on from this world. I am so lucky to have such a loving, kind family member (members!) and even though we didn’t get to spend too much time together on the one day we were there, her hugs helped make it all worthwhile.

Goodbye, Djenadi. Rest in peace, beloved aunt. Photo of me, Tammy and Allyson at the zoo 100 years ago…

In this, my 50th year, I have started weekly therapy. It is a dialectical behavioral therapist, rather than talk therapy, so much of our conversation is about how I can change by behavior so my emotions are not so much in control of me. It is .. difficult. In addition to aging 1,000 years since the 5 year wedding anniversary photo taken below, I have also continued, and continue in the same behavior patterns. Just this morning, before we leave to honor Djenadi and her beautiful life, Jason hurt my feelings. So, I calmly … ha, just kidding. I stormed away, he drove away, I called and screamed at him, he responded, and the dance continued. I am supposed to use open hands and a half smile when I hear something I disagree with, but I struggle to do that even at my office, much less at home. I am so terrified about how this trip/dinner in Baltimore/start of Allyson (HIGH SCHOOL) and Eleanor’s school/four days at work/trip to Florida/Jason’s 54th birthday will run us all ragged that I am starting already raggedy. And rage-y.

It’s been a long time since I wrote online, but … I keep renewing the site, and thinking about how this site connected me to someone who knew my uncle, Erwin Preston Jr., before he died of AIDS in 1990, and how this is the only place I have written in a sustained way (only for a month or a couple of months!) in my entire life. So, I renew.

On August 14, 2024, my BELOVED Aunt Djenadi, the kindest, warmest, most generous, and most loving person in my young childhood — a woman who, no matter how full her house was with her life and her own four children, always opened her home to me — passed from this world. She, like my mom, had been suffering through Alzheimers for the past few years, and her family had her as close as they could, but all of her four children live pretty rurally and she needed specified care. So she died from a UTI but also just from this terrible disease. She got much worse when her beloved husband passed a few years ago. My family and I are flying to Texas on Friday night and returning Sunday morning — I just want to be there, and see all my cousins, and hold on to her memory. Here she is as a very, very young girl. Her faith carried her so strongly throughout her life; I hope she is with Mark in her beloved heaven now.

On the same day, my husband’s father, Clyde, suffered a heart attack. He had been in a home for Alzheimer’s as well, and not doing well, and this setback was too much for him. He held on for Jason to go and say his goodbyes, and for three of his four sons to gather with his wife (our beloved Suzanne) and pick out a final resting place, and then he passed on Sunday, August 18, 2024. We leave next Thursday to spend the weekend, and Jason’s 54th birthday, with his family in Gainesville, Fl. Clyde, during my 18 years with the Kikers, has been a very complicated figure — on my very first meeting with him he was very brusque and dismissive with me, and it didn’t get better as time went on. But I am so glad Jason exists, and Suzanne had 62 years with Clyde, and that his family and his legacy of Kiker connection will live on for hopefully many more generations. Godspeed, though he believed not at all!

My mom is a big believer in birthdays. She goes all out, she makes every effort–my sister and I, especially as kids, were completely celebrated on birthdays. I told her this morning that is good and bad — it was such a WONDERFUL day and I looked forward to it all year — then it is hard for anyone else to live up to that in all birthdays afterwards! Jason has come the closest — one year he gave me a “word cloud” that my friend Carey designed and all my friends and family ‘donated’ words to about me. It’s framed by my bed. One year for Christmas he had all my friends and family donate to House of Ruth (where I’m now lucky enough to work!). Best gift ever.

But, for today’s birthday, I just want to recreate one of those magical youthful mornings. My mom and sister would come in, before I woke up, singing Happy Birthday in their beautiful voices. My mom always had a Gorton’s (could this possible be right?) Honey Bun heated up perfectly, so the sugar was crispy and the bun was soft, with a candle in it. She remembers orange juice but I just remember the perfect bun.

I’d open gifts, but on this day — I think I was 13 — my mom saved my REAL gift for later. I think in the morning I got a terry cloth robe that I wore for years. I think I just thought we couldn’t afford the REAL gift I wanted — Bass loafers. That day, we went to my mom’s friend Ann Owens house for dinner. I loved Ann Owens. She was casual and funny and her sons were just old enough to be super cool to me — they listened to crazy music, like THE CARS (I was so cutting edge, even back then).

At Ann’s house, after dinner, Mom said, Oh, I think I have one more gift. She pulled out — the Bass loafers. She laughed and gave me crap for them, “I never thought I’d have a child who wears $80 shoes!!” but she delivered (as usual) the gift I’d really wanted.

It’s like road trips — birthdays — I have so many memories of my mom creating a safe and happy childhood for me. It’s a blessing I’m particularly thankful for on March 1. I’m glad to be here.

Updated: Now I remember the other reason — school!! I loved (LOVED) locker decorations in school. To do other kids lockers, you had to be dropped off early, with the balloons and decorations and cards — my mom would ALWAYS take me when I asked. And one year in middle school and one year in high school I remember I had like 9 balloons on my locker, and cards, and even little gifts of candy. It was so celebratory!!

Allyson and I were at the grocery store last night — after a particularly fraught night, we all needed milkshakes. As we walked in, she noticed one of those, “if you buy this, you could win $200,000!” and she said — “Mom, those things are never real, are they?” And it took me back, way, way back …

I must have been about 10 — my parents were already divorced, and we were living in a three bedroom apartment. My sister and I drew straws, so I got the nice bedroom and she had the converted den — but she also had access to the balcony. My mom was getting her doctorate, and so was in school a lot, and money was tight. Money became a focal point; something we could all obsess over.

One day, home from school alone — my sister and I were at different schools, I guess, would be why I was alone — and I got the mail. It was before laws (or morals?) changed and said you can’t write “You’ve WON!” on an sweepstakes envelope. I got a Publisher’s Clearinghouse envelope with those very words on it — and I opened it, and it told me all about the wealth and hundreds of thousands of dollars we HAD ALREADY won.

I spent the hour or so before my mom got home just thinking about how happy she would be. We could buy a new car! I would pay for college! My mom could buy a house, since she really hated apartment living (my sister and I liked the pool but hated the distance from our old house/life). She walked in the door and in my mind’s eye I was BEAMING with joy. I could hardly wait to start talking:

“Mom! all of our troubles are over! WE WON!”

She had to sit me down and explain, ever so gently, that we had indeed won nothing, and that was just a ploy to get people to buy magazines. I have a really strong aversion to gambling, of any form, and I didn’t tie it to this experience until last night. It just broke my heart to not be able to do all that I had planned — and it felt terrible to have that hope be so false. It seems like so much of gambling is false hope — but I think today it also gives you that hour of sheer joy. I remember both feelings very clearly; I think the let-down one just affected me more deeply.

Today, though, I know I have won, with my kids and husband and job and house back in Arlington, Va where we are so at home. The sweepstakes of life — I did win! Just not that day.

My older sister turns 46 today, and what a gift she has been in my life. She is present at my earliest memories, and I looked up to her for so many years. I have a few memories, one: She was always shorter than me (well, after I was 6 and she was 8), but different in so many other ways. She’s more outgoing than I am, friendlier, a better singer (by a factor of 1000000) and stronger than I am, too. And for years, I thought — “when I get to be her age, I’ll finally be *just* like her. And I have this clear memory of standing in her bedroom in our apartment, she must have been turning 15 and I was about to turn 13, and I realized: “I will never, never be like her. I can try, and try, but I will just have to deal with being me.” I know it sounds silly, but I lamented that so sadly — I always wanted to grow up to be just like her.

One year ago today, Jason and I and the kids landed back in Arlington, Va., our adopted home, and started looking for work/school/home/life. Today, or a month ago, really, Jennei moved back to her adopted home, Atlanta, and is starting to look for her job/home/life. I admire her so much and love her so much and am so grateful for her in my life.

Anna, the fourth sister in this photo (from left: me, Carol, Jennei, Anna), came to visit last summer during a time that was complicated for all of us. I kept introducing her as my stepsister, and she finally looked at me and said, “It’s been 35 years. Aren’t I your sister?” and it was just so true. It’s been a long, hard, and sometimes dark road for all four of us to end up where we are: loving and loved in and by each other.

I hope my children someday have each other the way these amazing three have my back. No one knows my journey the way Jennei, Carol and Anna do — and I can’t wait to see where the next 46 years take us.

(pictured at my dad’s retirement party at the farm house where he was raised with the 1946 Hudson he’s been having rebuilt since before I was born in the background — he is only the SECOND owner of that car!!!)