I had every intention of coming home from my pre-production meeting of the Elizabeth Williams School of Dance “The Christmas Carol” and write about my new role as chair of the Marketing Committee.  I even wrote out several witty paragraphs in my head on the car ride home, contemplating wording and exactly what information I wanted to throw in.  I wanted to tell you about the new blog I am setting up that is going to follow this ballet from auditions to the last performance.  I was going the share with you some of the cool ideas we had about getting the word out and encourage people to attend our local performance.

It was a long meeting, so I had to miss my Monday night poker night.  I was a little bummed when I walked in the door, but it was hard not to relish the cool interior of my home – given the long drive with my windows open and the heat outside.  I prepared myself to write – drinking my water, clearing my work space, checking my email – when I decided to pop on Facebook for a moment.  I went to my wall and noticed that my sister had posted a link titled “The Family” asking me if I had the documnet.  I clicked on it and this was the first that I saw:

Some of the  story of

Don & phyllis





Phyllis Louise {Mueller} Hoffman 

The love of my life and 

my reason for everything 

devoted to GOD and her family 

and an example 

of how to do it right to many

Now… after you read through something like that (quoted exactly as written), wouldn’t that give you pause?  I have since gone on to read the story in its entirety.  I discovered that I was slightly off in my depiction of how my parents first met and the events that transpired.  I cried as I felt, in nearly every word, the love my Dad had for my Mom.  I smiled when he wrote about me and continuously called me “the baby” and “darling Kay” and then shared the most embarrassing story EVER in my life.  I can’t believe that was their lasting memory of my childhood.  Geesh!

This document  is very lengthy and, for now, very personal – as I am still wounded from my parents passing.  I would love to share with you the story, and maybe I will give it to you in bits and pieces as time goes on (minus my painfully embarrassing story, or maybe not – we shall see how the wind blows).

So, I’m going to leave my writing alone for tonight, I do believe.  I’ll make notes of the terribly witty things I had planned on saying, and delight my audience with them later (or bore them to tears, as the case may be).  I’ll leave you with a final quote, and my favorite of all time:

A happy childhood can’t be cured. Mine’ll hang around my neck like a rainbow, that’s all, instead of a noose. ~Hortense Calisher, Queenie, 1971