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Maybe I don’t like to be at my old church because it reminds me of how much I’ve changed. I might as well choose a new name for myself. I know all these people. I know all these names. Adults two, three years younger than me are getting married. Kids I remember as bobbins are now in high school. Well-meaning parents of friends ask what I’m up to nowadays. Good question. Complex answer. Today I said I was working on writing three books, babysitting, teaching dance, and hoping to get a job at a school in the fall. They act like I have no time. But I do. I have time for long walks, time to read, time for photography and editing. My mom coos over a sweet elfin child. Grandkids. My dad is thrilled about a school interview. Great. When will I feel like my feet have finally left the ground? When will my heart mend?

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