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I love musicals. When an actor speaks of the love she has lost, I feel sad, but when the music soars and she breaks into song, I sob.


For the first time in two years, I’m sitting in a cramped, plush seat, my wet winter coat draped across my lap. The theater is dark. The stage is lit. My eyes are full of tears and the show hasn’t even started. Everyone in the audience seems to feel the same way. We beam love to the performers with claps and cheers and they send it right back to us with kisses and waves. We are here. Together.


Cue the orchestra.

Dim the lights.

Grab a tissue.


The magic is back.

1. Sleeping beside someone I love is no small thing.


2. When I’m having my teeth cleaned, it helps if I pretend I’m being tortured and they will Not. Make. Me. Talk.


3. Pursuing a passion makes me feel childlike…wise…ageless.


4. If I sleep with my chin up in the air, I won’t get a wrinkled neck. (This has yet to be proven.)


5. Easier said than done…really is.


6. As I strive for enlightenment, I sometimes settle for kindness and that, too, is no small thing.

Carolyn wrote that she was unfriending me on Facebook.

Her initial friend request had been a mistake. She only realized this when I continued to post after her actual friend, also named Mary Sloat, died unexpectedly. I thanked her for letting me know and that I was sorry for her loss.


A thought nagged at me—if Carolyn had friended the wrong Mary Sloat was it possible that the wrong Mary Sloat had died? What if some higher authority had done the unthinkable (well, I was thinking about it, but you know what I mean) and selected the wrong person? Same name, close in age, could it happen?


Was someone at this very minute working to correct a cosmic wrong?


I found myself looking over my shoulder more than usual, driving more carefully and treading softly on the earth. But also, I’ve been noticing things—flowers, sunshine, light switches. I’m seeing wonders everywhere and now that I see them, I can’t seem to unsee them.


As a result, I’m harboring this feeling, wish, hope that if I’m grateful, really thankful for each day, perhaps all be allowed to stick around for another, oh, thirty years or so.


It’s become a bit of an obsession—feeling thankful. Mostly I keep it to myself, but apparently I’m now sharing it with all of you. (The three people who actually read my blog. Thank you, by the way.)


So I’m posting this today to let you know that I’m still here. I’ve deferred the cosmic draft for one more day. And isn’t it a beauty!

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