Wednesday, July 24, 2013

High Heels and Dirty Dishes Column 2


One would swear that my excitement for this column is totally over the top.  I feel that I am definitely writing for the Boston Globe, or even The New York Times.   My family on the other hand . . . well they are cautiously excited for me.  Cautious in the fact that they are not sure what I am going to write about.   Last night I was so angry with my mother for not having the “The Pre-Menopause” talk with me.  My mom and I have a great friendship.  I remember where we were when she gave me “The Talk” when I was growing up.  Although I really wish that maybe she would have given me “The Other Talk” now that I am older.  Yes, I am 36 years old and sometimes I sing the lyrics to the song in my head, “The old gray mare, she ain’t what she used to be”.  Yes I remember the day that I found my first gray hair on my head, I was like 25 and my Dr. at the time informed me that it was because of the medication that I was on.  I can’t blame her for that.  However after I hit 30 things started happening to my body that NEVER happen when you are in your 20’s.  A lot can be blamed on kids and giving birth.  For instance by now we know what happens when I get on a trampoline, and two piece swimming suits are out of the question.  The only time that you hear about two pieces come out of my mouth is when I say, “I will have two pieces of bacon”.  Not saying that I had a rock solid body before childbirth, I was the chubby kid that found stretch marks on my legs when I was 16.  I remember it vividly, it was the year that I discovered mozzarella sticks from the café in Oklee and bismarks from the McIntosh bakery, it all went downhill and sideways from there.   I found a chin hair a year ago and flipped out, it wasn’t a soft one that was casually brushed up with a makeup brush.   This was a whisker that hung low and was long.  I pulled it out.  Wouldn’t you know the next week it started coming back and brought friends?  You would swear my chin was a college keg party and my lower face was “The Hang Out”.   Every time I go to Wal-Mart to buy the wax kit I stuff it amongst other things in my cart to make sure that I don’t see anyone.  I feel like I am 17 years old again buying my own feminine products.   I called my mom tonight and she goes, “I don’t have chin hair”, the next time that I see her I am going to take a good look at her chin. . . . This conversation will definitely be continued.   So this is my second column, and by now you are thinking one of two things.  One:  Thank God it’s just not me, or Two:  This girl isn’t all there.  Well I hope that it is one, and if it’s two.  Well you see I had a stroke and brain surgery.  True story, I had a stroke at 33 and brain surgery at 35.  I use that as an excuse a lot.  Have I recovered?   I am happy to say that the bad days are few and far between, but sometimes it is really hard.  It has been a year since my surgery and tonight I sent my brother a message on Facebook and the last message that I got from him was the day of my surgery and he said, “I love you Al”.  It made me smile, and I got a little teary eyed.  It made me realize that I don’t know if we have really told each other that we love each other since then.  Why should it take something like your loved one going in for a serious surgery to send that message, and why hadn’t we done it before or after that for that matter? We all have our issues in life, I have mine, and if all you don’t think that you have yours . . . well my friend you do.  We take time for granted, and we get so caught up in our own lives that we forget about the ones who really matter.  We have all said that the phone works both ways, but sometimes it takes you to pick up the phone.  There is something about getting a phone call from your family to just say hi.  It is a lot better than receiving a call saying that “Al there was a bad accident”.   So to my brothers Aric and Lucas, I love you very much, and you should really call mom and dad and “Thank them for giving birth to the best older sister”.  Until next week my friends.

Allie Enge

Thief River Falls, Minnesota

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