A tale of two abortions

imageMany, many years ago an older friend shared with me the story of her illegal abortion. It involved a large amount of money, cash only, of course, a bus ride out of the city and into the “everything looks the same” suburbs, and an extracted promise to never tell anyone where she had been (as if she could remember) and what she had done (as if she could forget).

I remember being riveted by her story, trying to imagine the emotions my friend must have experienced on that scary afternoon. How nervous she must have been that something, anything, could go wrong – what if she missed her connection at the bus station or if the “abortionist” was really a scam artist intent upon robbing her? Would there be post-procedure complications? Might her decision to terminate her pregnancy in an unregulated “clinic” threaten her future fertility? What choice(s) did she truly have?

When I became pregnant as a teenager the only question I had to ask myself was this: Am I prepared to be responsible for another’s life? Recognizing that my present situation was but one indication of my own lack of personal responsibility,* I knew I needed to terminate my pregnancy. I called Planned Parenthood.

When I arrived for my appointment, jar of first morning’s urine in my school bag, I was treated like a human being. My options, choices, were explained and I was offered an array of services, including abortion. My questions were answered and I was provided with a referral to the facility where I would ultimately end my pregnancy and begin my new life as a much more responsible, sexually active, young woman.

I had no concerns about the legitimacy of the medical care I received or the competence of the practitioner. I understood the potential for complications or long term problems resulting from my abortion and accepted the small risk, knowing that actually having a child would be far more perilous.

In the years since my abortion, I’ve often wondered who that child, my child, would have grown to be. I’ve thought about how old (s)he would be and tried to imagine the life I would have known if I had become a teenaged mom. Ultimately, I can only conclude that the three children I do have most certainly benefitted from the services made available to me at Planned Parenthood and I have no regrets for the choice I made. I stand with Planned Parenthood.

*I’m NOT suggesting that all unintended pregnancies are the result of a lack of personal responsibility. This was MY situation.

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Filed under girlhood, medical, News, Observations, politics, Uncategorized

Eclipsing light

DSC_0004Waking up this morning to a sky smudged with grey, I wondered how our ancestors must have felt the day after a dramatic eclipse of the moon. For us, the eclipse was expected and much heralded, but what if the darkening and disappearance of the moon was completely unforeseen? How frightening must that have been? Were ancient people convinced that the world was ending, that there would never again be a light in the sky? DSC_0009

September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month and I can’t help but draw a parallel between the activities of the moon and what I envision the weight of depression to be. Having witnessed friends lose loved ones, as well as experiencing firsthand the seemingly sudden loss of a friend to suicide, I imagine depression must feel similar to a total eclipse. Maybe it’s like going to bed after witnessing the blackening of the sky and not knowing that a new day will indeed eventually dawn.

I’ve told you before that I am not someone you want around during a medical emergency, be it physical or psychological. Even though I care, I’m just not good in those situations. I know I’m not alone in my limitations when it comes to feeling at a loss regarding how to deal with illness and lack of well-being, but I’m telling you this –  I want to be better. I want to help.

I hope that those struggling in the darkness know, that even if it seems like the world is a really dark place, the light of day will return.  Let’s all be here to see it, ok?

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Filed under Events, News, Observations, sick

(Not) Making decisions is tiring

Mock up of shingle - Laura Glazer and Lori Hansen

Mock up of shingle – Laura Glazer and Lori Hansen

I think it’s easy to believe that making decisions constantly is an exhausting exercise. From the outside it may seem like the choices necessary when starting a business, which are required constantly – what products to buy, who to buy from, where to buy them, would be completely draining. Pillows and paint samples, ingredients and beverages, paper and fonts, menu backs and rubber bands, services and utilities – it is dizzying at times, but, not necessarily  exhausting.

Actually, it’s kind of more elating. With every choice made the individual pieces come together and the big picture starts to become more focused. The decisions feel like definitive steps in the “right” direction. It’s productive and good.


Making decisions in reality, though, it is far less taxing than it is to be continually placed in situations where you are not in charge of making the decisions. Instead, you are in a position where you are being intensely examined and documented and vetted. You’re filling out paper after paper and, if you’re anything like me, wondering why there isn’t a Common App for restaurant supply company credit since every form is pretty much exactly the same. And you wait – for paperwork and phone calls and emails and certificates.

Now that shit is truly exhausting.

But, we’re getting closer every day. When all the necessary paperwork has been printed and mailed and signed, you’ll all know. Keep yours eyes peeled. Lark + Lily is coming.

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Filed under Albany, Lark Street, Local, musings, Observations, Restaurants, stress, Wine

48 was great, I expect 49 to be sublime

When I see a reflection of myself, I don’t think I look how 49 sounds. In many ways I feel younger than ever, the result, I think of being happy and healthy and old enough to truly appreciate it.

“Nobody wants to get old but they don’t want to die young either.” – Keith Richards

I’ve had a wonderful year with many unforgettable moments. I’m in a good place professionally in a really positive place. My boys are gaining independence, venturing forth into college, work and on wheels.* I saw some fantastic concerts and a number of beautiful sunsets. There were moments when my life felt so perfect that I could have died with a contented sigh.

“I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger.” – The Faces

When I’m 49, I plan to go to Nashville with my best friends and Spain and Portugal with my middle son. My brother and I will be restaurant owners. I’ll challenge myself with a half marathon and a schedule that will be intense, to say the least. There will be delicious meals and lovely wines and I’ll take pictures and write about all of it.

“Never slow down, never grow old.” – Tom Petty

Age, like weight and height, is a number. It’s up to each of us to decide the importance of it in our lives. I’d like to think that the total of my years is a pretty small figure when compared to the total number of moments I’ve shared with loved ones laughing, making memories and experiencing life.  49 is going to be fine.

*Quinn is obsessed with his bicycle and the freedom it affords him.


Filed under aging, Albany, birthdays, Dinner, family

Robert Plant and the Sensational Space Shifters

imageThe first time I saw Robert Plant was at the Meadowlands in the late 80s. I was 21 or 22 years-old and had been a Led Zeppelin fan for as long as I could remember. Stevie Ray Vaughan opened up and absolutely ruined Plant for me. Stevie was just that good.

Since that time, I’m happy to say, Plant has come back to me and he’s been amazing each of the subsequent times I’ve been fortunate enough to see him. It’s like he’s grown more comfortable with himself, with who he is and what his range is these days. You might say he’s shifted his space, sensationally at that.

Friday night’s show was inspirational. Watching a man (nearly 20 years my senior) perform songs that span more than 4 decades, yet still remain relevant, is a pretty cool thing to witness. Catching a reflection of myself in the mirror and realizing that I was wearing an outfit (Frye boots, cutoffs, tshirt) that is probably just about identical to one I may have worn to my first Plant show, only added to the space shifting vibe.

I’m no rock star, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn a lesson or two about aging from a musical idol. Plant’s range may no longer be as wide, but his catalog has depth and with his awareness of his reach, he sounded great. Read this guy’s spot on review. The set list featured many familiar tunes, with the songs reworked, beats a bit slower, sung a little lower. They were different, but not diminished.

As we grow older its only natural that we, too, shift space. We move from being children motivated to please our parents and teachers to adults who often commit to being responsible for another’s happiness. Maybe that’s where we contentedly stay or perhaps we continue forward motion with a partner by our side. There are so many possibilities.

I’ve definitely arrived in a space where I’m interested in being who I am today. Me. I’m kind of done with taking directions, preferring to shift into a different gear that allows me to do the things I find most interesting and satisfying. I may not sing songs, but believe me, I’ve got more chapters to write.  Ramble on.

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Filed under aging, concerts, Music, NYC

Can I have your number?

image: zazzle.com

image: zazzle.com

I went to NYC yesterday evening to see Robert Plant and his band the Sensational Shape Shifters. It’s been a hectic week and it was so nice to cut loose a little and slow down for the night. Incidentally, what does it mean, when my life is so busy, that I go to the city to chill? Anyway, it was a lot of fun and we laughed so on hard on the train, I cried.

As you can imagine, it was a loud show and, this morning, I woke up with ears ringing. In addition to the left over notes of music in my head, I was also re-hearing some of the conversations from the night. One interaction in particular has replayed itself a few times and I’m left wondering if my position is typical for a nearly 49-year-old woman.

There was a guy at the show who initiated a conversation with me – something not easy to do when the music is loud and the show is standing room only. He actually even entertained me enough that I agreed to step into the lobby to continue the conversation, as it was about music and politics. We talked for a few minutes and then I excused myself to return to my friend and the rock god we were there to see.

As I took my leave, he asked me for my card, which I didn’t have with me since I was traveling light, sans wallet. He then asked for my number. I declined explaining that I wasn’t a person who just gave out her number. He reached for his phone to give me his number. I shook my head.

He asked me how I met people, had I ever been in a relationship or married and, if so, how had that begun? Wasn’t it with the bestowing of a phone number? I told him I met my former husband in a restaurant, we had mutual friends. He shook his head.

Is it weird that I think a guy should have to do a little work? You know, maybe get my name and take it from there? Be a little resourceful and make an effort? I guess I’m in a place where I just don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect for someone to demonstrate their interest by exerting themselves prior to asserting themselves.

What about you? How do you strike up new friendships?  Do you give your people your number?


Filed under aging, concerts, NYC, relationships, road trips, Uncategorized

Lucky! In the right place at the right time walking on broken glass.

A couple of months ago when I was in NYC with the girls, I received a text message with a photo attached. While it was hot and humid in the city, Albany was getting pummeled by a storm complete with wind and intense rain. The picture perfectly captured the severity of the storm including the tree in my neighbor’s yard which, I’m convinced, will one day fall on my house.

My immediate response was panic – Oh, no! What can I do?! I quickly concluded: nothing. My next thought was “at least there isn’t anyone at home to get hurt and stuff is just stuff.” With that realization, I picked up my glass of rose and carried on with living.

This morning Jeter become possessed by a squirrel he spotted on the front porch. He ran from window to door to window before finally jumping up to slam himself against the door window, shattering it, of course, into a million pieces. Miraculously, unlike when I put my hand through a door’s glass window, Jeter came through completely unscathed.

I shooed him out and got to work cleaning up the larger shanks shards of glass by hand before busting out the vacuum to get the finer pieces. It took some time. During the day I got an estimate for the repair. I considered calling for help with the removal of the door (by the hinges) and lugging it down the steps to load into my car to bring to the glass shop. I didn’t. I figured out how to take the hinge pins out myself and carefully somehow got the door off and into my car.

Reflecting on the morning, I was appreciative that I had been home when Jeter finally went through the window. It was only a matter of time before it happened and it would have been awful if I hadn’t been there to clean up the glass.  He could have gotten hurt.  It could have been so much worse.

So many potential perils – wind and rain and broken glass and all I have is a splinter or two in my hands.  Lucky.

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Filed under DelSo, house, musings, NYC, Observations, Random, Uncategorized