Relationship Blogs |
 This summer, I was going to Ziggy Marley’s tribute concert. It was my first time at our local amphitheater and I was excited to join a fun group of friends for the evening. Next step: what to wear?
I left my office and walked to a boutique in the neighborhood. I found something cute and went up to buy it. The checkout girl was new. I told her my office was right around the corner as she took my payment. Her eyes widened.
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 I never realized how important it was. Or more to the point, how many times it would be handed down.
It was a little red Patagonia jacket. Size 3T. I bought it 40 years ago as a gift for my niece. She was an adorable toddler at the time. As it turned out, she was a bit too big for the jacket, so I gave it to my nephew. He wore it until his arms were so long that the navy blue cuffs hit him mid-forearm.  Trigger warning: abusive relationships
It was a normal life. Lots of ups and downs when she was a kid, but nothing really out of the ordinary. Of course, there were the messages from our culture that tell women we’re not good enough and that we should keep stuff to ourselves. And people in her family didn’t talk openly about s e x, but that wasn’t different. She learned about s e x from her older sister. And her mom had a book about human anatomy on the top shelf of the bookcase in the den. When her friends came over for a slumber party someone always climbed up and got it so that they could all look at the pictures. They found a flashlight and scrambled under a sleeping bag. It was stuffy and crowded as they tried to catch a look.  She was looking forward to dinner with her friend, but life was happening and it was already 6:30. They had zero plans. She texted him.
 One upon a time, a very long time ago, I ditched school with my HS boyfriend and went home for the afternoon when my parents were at work. My BF and I had been dating for a hot minute. Getting naked together that afternoon seemed like a much better idea than showing up for Miss Moyers’ Senior English class.
I drove him up the hill where I lived on Carol Drive in my (always) filthy yellow VW Bug. Wilted pink camellia blossoms covered the sidewalk outside of the house. |
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