He Did it Again!

My brother graduated from High School in '95. He got married a month later. They worked hard to get him through college, and he graduated with a bachelors in Electrical Engineering Technology. I remember crying tears of pride at the ceremony. Several years and two beautiful little nieces later, there I was again this evening, waiting for his name to be called. As soon as the parade of caps and gowns started marching into the room, the tears rolled down my cheeks. My mother and I used receipts from my purse to try to dry our eyes, and when he walked across the stage with his white Magna Cum Laude cord around his neck, I could have burst with happiness. My older brother, my roll model, the person I have looked up to all my life, has an MBA now. A Masters. Unbelieveable. At twenty-eight, he has already lived such a full productive life... and there is so much more to live. He has worked hard for everything he has, and so has his family. No matter how much I tell him, he will never know how proud his little sister is, or how much she looks up to him.


Will I ever get to feel what it is like to be on the other end? Will I too someday walk across that stage to the applause of people who look up to me? If I do reach that point, will I have someone special in my life to share it with? I truly hope so. I would love the chance to make my brother proud of me the way I am proud of him.

Loss of a Loved One

I burried my hamster on Sunday. She was the sweetest little angel. I bought Peanut and Butter a month ago as an impulse celebration after my divorce was finalized. I was told they were both female, but later found that Peanut was aptly named. Butter was my baby. I felt bad for playing favorites, but it was hard not to. She was smaller, gentler, and more people friendly. Exactly one month to the day of her purchase, I went to say goodbye on my way to work and sadly found that Butter had already said her goodbyes and left me. I couldn't leave her in the cage with Peanut all day, and I just felt wrong freezing her, so a Ziplock baggie and the bottom shelf of the fridge had to do. For three days, every time I scavenged for food I was reminded of my loss. I had to wait until my day off to put her to rest. So on Sunday evening, I padded a tiny box with tissues (Puffs Plus, with lotion) and gently placed her comfortably in it. It was a long, sad drive to my mother's and a dark, muddy struggle to dig her a nice place to rest. I said a quick prayer, thankful for the joy that one month of her presence in my life had brought me, planted some flower seeds on top of the dirt that covered her, and left. The flowers will never grow, as they will be unknowingly mowed over by my mother, but I am sure that Butter appreciated the thoughtful gesture. She probably would have said forget the flowers and eaten the seeds anyway.