Plot Twist: I’m The Glue
A theme has been running through my head since just before Thanksgiving, and it even showed up in some of my recent essays. The feeling of how things once were. The idea that once my mother, the glue of the family, passed, our family dynamic changed. I lost something in my life, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Instead, I invited victimhood and resentment to enter my thoughts. Yes, this dynamic duo is powerful, loud, and moved right in. They have a way of bringing out the worst in me. Given enough airtime, they can turn a quiet moment of grief into a full-blown internal TED Talk on how unfair everything is.
As the holiday season went on, and nothing old was knocking on the door, the longing grew louder by the day. I became determined to identify exactly what I was missing, as if clarity might magically appear, bringing all my answers with it. Wouldn’t that be nice?
So I went inward. The people I think I’m missing aren’t the same people they were six or seven years ago. Truthfully, I don’t know who they are now beyond the occasional smiling square on social media or the obligatory “happy birthday” text. My house of thirty years? No. I genuinely love my new home. The city? Absolutely not. Nice try, nostalgia.
Which leaves me with the lingering question that refuses to leave the room: what have I been yearning for all this time? What unnamed absence cracked the door just enough for grief, and her exhausting friends V and R to wander in, kick off their shoes, and make themselves comfortable?
And then, quietly, the answer arrived. What I was missing wasn’t a person or a place; it was a feeling. The feeling of creating something and offering it to others. Of gathering, giving, and contributing in a way that feels alive and connective.
For decades, I was the one who did that. I was the “glue.” The planner. The one sending the texts, setting the dates, arranging the chairs, and making sure everyone had a place to land. Somewhere along the way, I stopped doing what had always grounded me, and apparently, my nervous system noticed long before I did.
I found the feeling again on Christmas Eve, standing in my own home, hosting. Cooking, arranging, welcoming. Creating space. And there it was, that familiarity. Not the past itself, but its essence. The part that still belongs to me.
I noticed it in my own voice when I talked about the evening later, more energy, more ease. Excitement. Joy. Dare I say passion? It felt good to recognize that part of myself again.
The longing didn’t vanish, but it softened. What I was searching for hadn’t gone anywhere; it was just waiting in the wings for me to show up and set the damn table.
As always … Enjoy the Ride, and have a Happy, healthy, peaceful 2026!
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A Village. A Volvo, and One Unapologetic Terrier
Today I had the pleasure of reading an essay titled “It Takes A Village” at https://athingirl.com/2025/12/11/it-takes-a-village/. Please stop by for a touch of Christmas Spirit.
That being said, I had my own village experience today, and I’m still thawing out from it since this afternoon.
On my way home from work, my neighbor texted me a photo from his Ring camera. A dog had shown up, and he was wondering if I knew who it was. Thankfully, I did. It was Scout, the rambunctious terrier mix, who had a hard time adjusting to life in an adoptive home. Little by little, she’s been getting better… just not today.
I pulled into my driveway and, lo and behold, there she was, right on my lawn. That lasted about two seconds. I called her name. She stopped. I walked toward her. She ran.
My phone dinged again. Another neighbor had been alerted and was heading out to drive around looking for Scout. Great! Meanwhile, I was now playing chase with Scout, who had managed to make it two blocks away in the freezing cold.
I knocked on the owner’s door. She was delighted to see me until she realized Scout was roaming the neighborhood solo. Mind you, it’s freezing, I’m 61, and I’ve been playing tag with a four-legged escape artist for a solid 20 minutes. So when she asked, “How did she get out of the yard?” I honestly don’t know what my face said, but my mouth stayed shut.
Just then, my knight in shining armor arrived, or rather, a white Volvo with every amenity known to man, including heated seats. Bless him. I climbed in, and we resumed the hunt in the lap of luxury.
The owner jumped in her own car, and off we all went. On our third lap around the neighborhood, we spotted Scout. I leapt out of my chariot for yes, another thrilling round of tag.
After “running” through yard after yard, Scout finally headed straight to her front door. I tiptoed, praying not to spook her, opened the door, and let her in. Mission accomplished… mostly.
Now it was time to call the owner, who is elderly and driving. After what felt like a million redials, she finally answered. I told her Scout was safely inside the house, warm and unapologetic.
I waited on the porch like a giant popsicle while my other neighbor, and those glorious heated seats, drove off to run errands. As I walked home, one thought crossed my mind:
“What if someone captured this insanity on their camera?” OH MY GOD!
By the time I finally made it home, frozen, windblown, and rethinking my entire personality, I decided two things. First, Scout is extremely lucky that she’s adorable. Second, if your Ring camera captured a woman running through your yard, yelling “SCOUT” with increasing desperation, that footage is fake news.
Enjoy the Ride!
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Small World
“It’s a small world.” How many times have you heard this in your lifetime? I remember my parents saying it and thinking, “What are you talking about?” Now, here I am saying it at least twice a week! It’s official, I’m my parents.
The community had a huge yard sale on Friday and Saturday at the new abode. According to the neighbors, this is a twice-a-year function that is heavily advertised and equally as popular. Perfect timing for this professional box unpacker.
The weather was damp and rainy, but that did not stop the crowds. Yes, crowds. I made a good chunk of change selling crap left by the previous owners and some of my own crap. I’m very close to getting a “less is more” tattoo or t-shirt.
This lovely couple, Frank and Joanne, stopped by to browse yesterday. There was an instant connection. They had a good sense of humor, especially Frank’s quick wit. People could have been shoplifting, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
As we were exchanging backstories of how the hell we wound up in Lewes, DE, Joanne was surprised to learn that I had never vacationed in this area. I explained I’m a Jersey Shore girl, Ocean City. NJ, to be exact. Her parents lived in Ocean City, NJ.
I explained that my husband was familiar with this area through his job, and my only introduction was when we looked at this house. Now she is intrigued.
Joanne, “How do you just move to a place you’ve never been to?”
Me, “I don’t know, but here I am.”
Frank, “Wow, there’s more than one!”
Me, “You know someone else who just packed up to Lewes?”
Joanne, “Yes, our dear friend from college. She just called me one day and told me her boys were all out of the house; they sold their home in Villanova and bought a place in Lewes.”
Frank, “I asked her if she bought it on Amazon because she never asked us to check it out or inquired about the area.”
Joanne, “We couldn’t believe they made such a big purchase without a second thought.”
Me, “I looked at Frank’s Mount St. Mary College sweatshirt while Villanova and boys ran through my mind when I asked, wait a minute, what is your friend’s name?”
Joanne, “Marie _______ _______.”
Me, “WHAT!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
Frank, “You know Marie?”
Me, “Yes, we were paralegals together back in the day and work besties.”
All of us, “OMG! It’s such a small world!” Along with laughter.
Frank takes out his phone, captures a photo of the three of us, and sends it to Marie.
We are all meeting for Happy Hour on Friday!
Enjoy the Ride!
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Spirited Boys
I just finished a book at record speed. Why? Well, because it grabbed my attention from page one, and I couldn’t get enough. The title is “The Day John Died” by Christopher Anderson. John, as in, John Kennedy, Jr.
First, the story grabbed me because I, and anyone with eyes in my age group, had a crush on John. He was like your forbidden best friend’s older brother crush. You don’t have a chance, but it’s fun to gaze.
Secondly, I had no idea that John was “a spirited boy” or in today’s terms probably had a little ADHD going on. I prefer spirited boy.
Oh, how do I know this? Well, because I raised one as well, just not in the public eye.
John’s early days in the White House were described as “active” and “curious.” Running the halls like he owned the place and asking any adult, including Secret Service agents, every question a toddler could wrangle up. Yup, he’s spirited all right.
I’m not going to lie here. I was getting envious thinking of Jackie’s help in handling her handful. I know I could have used a couple of agents and a Nanny during those primitive years.
I imagined meeting Jackie at a parent-teacher conference, realizing we were in the same boat. FYI: My boat is a raft and hers a yacht.
Throughout my son’s education, it was obvious that the mothers of these little spirits also magnetize towards each other, and remain lifelong friends. The cry for help must be written all over our faces.
There are two scenarios: Jackie and I would have been best friends, or I would have been served with a restraining order. It could go either way, but I’m leaning towards friends. I know me, and I know I would be starstruck, so there are no guarantees.
On one of our many playdates at the park, we could discuss the need to have our colorist on speed dial to touch up the never-ending grays caused by the shenanigans of our little overactive, curious but lovable boys. A girl can dream.
As everyone knows, Jackie was very protective over John, and rightfully so, considering the circumstances surrounding him at every corner. Still, her protection from the many, many Mrs. Kennedy wannabes had me dreaming of landlines. You go, Jackie!
One of the perks in raising a child in the ’70s was the ability to screen their calls, and Jackie had no problem telling an unfamiliar female voice, “I’m sorry he’s not here right now.”
Unfortunately for me, my little spirit was born into a world of cell phones and the knowledge to press charges for invasion of privacy if I even tried such a move.
Of course, this story is all in jest. I would never have been in the same circle as my girl Jackie, nor would I ever be screening my son’s calls, hmm, well maybe, but I found it very interesting through the words of Christopher Anderson that our sons, had such similar spirit and curiosity. Just another reason for me to love Jackie.
Enjoy the Ride!
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Panties To Poise Pads
The other night, a weeknight I might add, your friend here made plans with her bestie to see a local comedian that makes us both laugh at the level of tears. I wish he would have brought better eyesight instead!
My bestie got the tickets without reading that the show STARTS at 10:45 p.m. I’m usually way into REM sleep at this time since I’ve been AWAKE since 4:45 a.m.
Then this Mrs. Magoo failed to notice the address of the venue. We assumed it was in Center City. NOPE! It was at an “upscale dive bar” under the El. (short for elevated train). Hookers, junkies and two middle-aged women out past their bedtimes. Suddenly I’m singing “two of these things is not like the others.”
After endless text messages back and forth trying to decide if going was worth our lives, we finalized the deal with “if we can’t get safe parking we’ll just come home.” Bam!
I head out of my house at 9:15 p.m. on a weeknight, put some 80’s Janet Jackson on the playlist, and channel my inner 23-year-old self to pick up my bestie. The difference between actually being 23 and the reality of being middle aged is I was doing wash before leaving the house.
As soon as my bestie gets in the car, she is happy to hear Janet Jackson doing her thang, and we start to reminisce about our “club days.” We concluded that our 23-year-old selves were either fearless, extraordinarily dumb or a healthy mix of both.
At 23 we were getting into cars with strangers, at 54 we were worried about safe parking.
At 23 the only thing I had to do before leaving was getting dressed, at 54 I was making lunches and folding laundry.
At 23 I was deciding on which cute panties to wear, at 54 I was deciding between the regular or super-sized Poise pad.
At 23 leaving the house at 9:15 on a weeknight was acceptable, at 54 my son was asking me if I was “going through something.”
At 23 rolling in at 4 a.m., getting a shower and heading straight to the office smelling like vodka actually happened, at 54 it took me 3 days to recover from coming in at 2 a.m., and NO ALCOHOL was involved.
Thankfully, this section of “under the el” was an up an coming millennial hub of coolness. The venue was, in fact, an “upscale dive bar” as described. Low lighting, sparse seating, but our feet didn’t stick to the floor, so all was good in the hood. The crowd was an excellent mix of ages with the same sense of humor. The comedian, Aunt Mary Pat did not disappoint as we laughed from beginning to end leaving us with sore cheeks and permanent smiles.
YOLO! Keep Laughing and Enjoy the Ride!
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Make Them Want More
What can I say? I L O V E to entertain.
I love to make my house sparkle & shine.
I love cooking with a dash of love and a smidgen of admiration.
I love breaking out all the fancy schmancy goods.
I love watching the interactions.
I love listening to the laughter.
I love feeling the love.
There is something about having the power to make people happy that swells my soul.
Of course, it might not seem like it while I’m running around like a chicken without its head to ensure that everything is just so or when I’m screaming at my kids because they’re leaving signs of life ALL over the house, but I really do. I swear!
Recently my son was kind enough to send me this video that could be actual footage of me before hosting anything from coffee to Christmas. As he explained “Mom! This is so YOU!” Please remind me again why I had kids?
Well, I guess I should be glad that I’m not the mother of Chris Fleming, the young man behind this video because he is the comedian that stars as the titular high-strung suburban mom Gayle Waters-Waters in this video, and many more that are also hilarious.
So, after the dust settles literally and the guests arrive, I put on my best hostess with the mostess attitude to dazzle them with delicious food, laughter, music, cocktails, more laughter and conversation before I send them back to reality where for days they are yearning for a little more. That’s Entertainment!
Enjoy the Ride!
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The Blessed Project
The Blessed Project hosted by none other than the QUEEN of Wild Rides Susie Lindau, could not have come at a better time this season.
It’s not that I don’t recognize my blessings, I do, I really do. It’s just that sometimes life sweeps in to rattle me in another direction. No doubt I am part squirrel.
This is why we need to take advantage of the opportunities when they are presented. So a big round of applause to Susie for providing us with the chance to be still. Even if it’s just for a moment feel the peace.
BLESSINGS:
90 Years Young
Recently I was Blessed to witness my mother’s joy, as she watched her whole family sing in unison the old classic “Happy Birthday” before she cast her 90th wish.
If joy had a face … this my friends would be what it looks like.
#oncloudcullen
In September I was Blessed to celebrate the wedding of my nephew, and to gain this beautiful woman as my niece. Their wedding was spectacular!
The love for this couple was explosive throughout the entire celebration.
It’s been unanimous within the family that we all want to go back for a few more hours on Cloud Cullen.
Santa, we have officially replaced the kids. Bring bones.
Every damn day I am Blessed to come home to these two snowflakes.
No matter what went on in the day, these little lumps of love are there to remind me that I am indeed the best thing that ever happened to their world.
Outgrowing the table
On Thanksgiving, I was especially Blessed to have everyone I love under one roof. My sisters who are always generous with their time and efforts. My brother-in-laws for being loving and caring men. My nieces with their intelligence, baking talents and beauty. My nephews who are passionate about everything from world affairs to Harambe the gorilla. The significant others that slip right into place with the craziness. My children for being such loving beings and my husband for always helping to make my day a little easier.
Mangia!
Blessings included were enjoying each others company, eating delicious food and laughing together. Playing Cards Against Humanity until our ab muscles hurt. Finding humor in every conversation on the table and most of all NOT TALKING POLITICS FOR A SECOND. (There were rumors of some quiet texting on this subject, but nothing was proven)
The ladies
I’m Blessed to have good friends who recognized that a night of Running Through The Lights is exactly what I needed.
I’m Blessed that they are persistent in their efforts to get me to workout, sweat, laugh, pee and cry.
My version of Blogosphere
I’m Blessed to have virtual friends that are loving caring beings in and outside of the blogosphere.
I’m Blessed that they continue to show me love. Send virtual hugs. Make me laugh. Pray for me. Provide free therapy and genuinely care.
My Family Squad
I am truly BLESSED for this photo that speaks for itself.
Enjoy the Ride!
Don’t forget to pack your blessings!
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An Offer You Can’t Refuse
This Sunday, September 18th, I have the pleasure of walking on behalf of LuLu’s Rescue. This wonderful organization was brought to my attention by my dear friend Marge. We’ve known each other since grade school. A/K/A a very long time.
Marge rescued the most beautiful girl named Izzy from this organization. She loves to dig holes, sit in the sun, cuddle and provide endless hours of love. What more can you ask for? Marge might say fewer holes.
I’m not sure how Marge does it, but she regularly volunteers her time and effort to this cause. I’ve seen photos of her in a pile of puppies! Yes, you read that right. Somehow she has the restraint to not fill her purse and make a run for it with those fur balls. I do not have that power.
The part I’m playing in all of this is very small. I just have to B E G family and friends to support me in raising some cold hard cash. With every $250.00 raised a lump of love will be rescued from a kill shelter. Insert a gentle tug on your heartstrings.
They will then be placed into loving foster arms where they will await a forever home. But all of this cost money. Your donation will provide transport, vetting, spay/neuter, microchip, heart worm and flea/ tick meds along with food to all of these lucky dogs. Literally lucky dogs.
Look, I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse. Yes, I’m channeling my inner godfather.
All you have to do it click on this LINK: Lisa’s Donation Page
Follow the directions about entering your digits and you’re done. Easiest thing you will do all day!
Compliments of Lovelorn Pup
In return animals all across the land will wag their tails in unison to THANK YOU for saving one of their own. Animals are such grateful creatures.
Enjoy the Ride … with a wag riding shotgun!
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How Low Can You Go?
Tell us about the most exciting big night out you had recently.
Imagine sitting in your kitchen on a Sunday afternoon, just 2 days after Christmas, trying to muster up the incentive clean-up the holiday aftermath, and go food shopping. The struggle was real.
In the distance, I heard a faint ding a/k/a as the diversion.
I reacted like the trained lab rat I am and sprinted to find my phone.
Hmm, a private message from my BFF on Facebook, always intriguing, this time, it was like hitting a lottery.
Low and behold an old friend of hers, and a new friend of mine invited us to her East Coast wedding celebration.
The ding was received at 12:59 and the party started at 3:00.
While part of me was starting the car, the other part was anchored down with all she had to do. Celebrating love or food shopping? Once I said that out loud it was a no brainer.
Guess what? Milk can be purchased any ole time, but these friends were only here from California for the holidays. They came to celebrate their fabulous union with their East Coast peeps, and we were fortunate enough to be included in the festivities.
Needless to say, by some sort of miracle, we were both gussied up and drinking a cocktail by 3:30!! I even did my nails … it’s still a mystery.
When you say yes the universe helps you. Dan Brule
Did I mention this was a gay wedding? Well, it was. Let me just say to the heterosexual crowd … THE BAR HAS BEEN RISEN. Game on people, game on.
We ate, danced, laughed, danced, laughed, danced, laughed …. you get the picture.
Here are a few photos of the shenanigans fabulous time that I wanted to last all night long.
Cheers!
Selfie Station Shenanigans With the BFF
The Happiness With One Of The Brides
This Is What Fun Looks Like
The Photo That Keeps On Giving
After the glitter settled I was suddenly crippled. Apparently I sprained my gluteus medius. How did this happen you ask? Well, that was determined through a conversation with the bestie and confirmed by an Orthopedic doctor.
Me: I’m crippled! I can just about walk. I think it’s from dancing.
Bestie: Did you go too low?
Me: Laughter! What?
Bestie: When the DJ said, “How low can you go?” Did you go too low?
Me: Laughter! It was at the seriousness of the question.
Bestie: Joined in on the laughter and added: “you go low all of the time at the gym.”
Me: Well, If I’m a cripple, I’m glad it’s from something as fun as going too low.
Me & Bestie: Laughter!
The lesson here folks is to make sure you say YES more often. Saying NO is safe, but lord knows it’s dull. Challenge yourself! Easier said than done, but necessary.
Say “yes” to new experiences, new people and new adventures. You’ll be surprised at how much you learn about yourself just by agreeing to learn about someone or something else. Learning is good.
If I played it safe with this invitation, sure I might have had milk for my cereal in the morning, but I would never have these amazing memories, not to mention this meme. Milk is highly overrated anyway.
Say YES and Enjoy the Ride!
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I’ll Have Rainbow Tears To Go Please
I have been very sad for the last few days while my heart is still on the mend after the loss of our beloved dog Chester. The continuous crying has left me looking like an Iguana, which is not a very good look. Bulging puffy eyes should never be allowed outside of the world of reptiles. However, over the past week I have had the pleasure of discovering something very important about tears…they are necessary and they come in different flavors. Let me explain…
This week we had two patients come in together right after lunch. One was a long existing pain in the ass patient and the other, her evil bitch sister, who was there for the first time. Right out of the gate she was a bitch and it just kept on coming. Whew! My back is to the desk, so I couldn’t see her at first, I just had the displeasure of feeling the flames coming from her mouth. Well, let’s just say she was as ugly as her disposition. Ugly, mean and demanding….a triple threat.
My dear friend and co-worker always gets me going with her anger…is it wrong to enjoy watching someone on the verge of a 
killing spree? I can’t help myself she’s hilarious in this state so I tend to…you know…egg her on. There she was, right in the line of fire with these 2 witches…literally on the verge of jumping the counter, when the PITA (pain in the ass) approached for assistance with her cell phone as if she were at the AT&T store. She had no clue how lucky she was at this point that she was still alive.
Well, let’s just say she may not have been so lucky during Round 2 when she approached the desk screeching “my phone keeps talking make it stop” and waving her phone right into the face of her soon to be murderer. I did what any good co-worker would do … jumped up, took the bullet and prevented a jail term. Lord knows it would have been justifiable homicide.
I have to admit, as aggravating as they Toxic Twins were, they did provide us with something that we ALL needed at the time….a good old-fashioned belly laugh…at their expense of course.
Years ago we decided to create invitations a/k/a coping mechanisms for some of these unruly patients. Ironically, last week I accidentally came across the one for our imaginary Hay Ride. Talk about good timing! Who knew that just the thought of these 2 sporting flammable outfits to a bon-fire could bring such … well … JOY.
The gray gloomy Tears of sorrow were replaced by a shiny set of rainbow Tears, leaving us all with a healthy glow, replenished souls and crossed legs. Laughter truly is the best medicine.
Recognize the silver linings and continue to Enjoy the Ride!
Life With The Top Down 
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