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7:21 a.m. - Saturday, Nov. 23, 2002
Ms Leslie comes up for air
I feel like I�m coming up for air today. Not unlike my fish Ornery, come to think of it. See, he breathes air too. He can only stay on the bottom so long before he has to come to the surface for a gulp of oxygen. If he lets himself stay on the bottom, he will die. If I let myself stay on the bottom, I will die too. And I�m not ready to die yet. Not this year.

Last year I was ready. And all the years before that. I used to wonder how much longer the bad theater called my life was going to drag on, and why it was, exactly that I stayed in the audience to watch. I wasn�t even onstage; just a casually interested bystander to my life. I should have left the theater before someone got hurt. This year though, I think I have more interest in seeing how all this is going to turn out. I think I�m interested in getting onstage again after all these years and becoming a part of my own life. It�s a little bit scary.

And so I�m going to fight this annual depression. I�m taking part this year, in a small way, in the holidays. I�m going to Baton Rouge to spend Thanksgiving with family.

Yes, that right�. Family.

I�m redefining family for myself. It�s not about blood or that thin strand of mucous I keep referring to. It�s about care, which I suppose is my code word for the one I can�t easily say�.. �love�.

I�m adding to my family. Want to be in it? As it turns out, it�s pretty easy to be family to me. All you have to do is love me and you know what? Loving me isn�t as hard as it might seem. Loving myself is the hardest, but I think I�m getting there. I�m divorcing some of my family too. I�m too old to play around any more. I�m too old to stay around anyone who makes me feel bad about myself. I�m too old to spend myself anymore on those who don�t love me. I�m too old to spend myself pretending to love people who hurt me. I want to spend what�s left of me learning to love the people who don�t hurt me. And that�s the scariest thing of all. I�m not too good at loving.

So, instead of closing myself up and waiting for T�day to pass silently by, I�m going to take some pies into Cajun Country and give myself a chance to be happy. It could happen, who knows? I�m going there with the understanding that if it doesn�t happen; if I find myself feeling like an alien, I will quietly slip away with no apologies. The people who love me will understand and appreciate me for trying in the first place. Those who don�t love me won�t miss me. How can I lose?

Plan �B� for those times when being part of the traditional holiday scene comes right out of Seinfeld. George�s father had the right idea when he got disgusted with Xmas and created �Festivus� fir the restofus.

Where�s the law that says I have to be any part of any holiday at all? If I can�t be comfortable with the traditional stuff, why can�t I do it my own way? A quiet day spent preparing a small meal for myself and one or two ghosts. A day spent remembering, grieving if necessary, and then looking to the future. Is there some reason I should have to apologize for that? I think not. I think it�s time to do things in the way that seems most right for me and let the rest of the world do what seems right for them.

Once in a while, maybe me and the world will cross paths.

Meantime, like the fish, I�ll keep just trying to remember to come up for air once in a while. This time of year, that�s the best I can do.

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