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The Working Title Is… Embracing Each MILEstone

This week, I will experience something for the very first time in my life.

The exact hour and location are yet to be determined, but, at some point, the odometer of my car will roll over to read 100,000 miles.

Ok, they don’t technically “roll over” anymore, but “digitally advance” doesn’t seem to capture the drama I’m feeling.

During a road trip last week, I reflected on the impending six-digit milestone of our 2010 Ford Expedition. I considered all the roads I’ve traveled and hours I’ve logged behind the wheel.

As the brilliant fall colors lit up both sides of the highway, I wondered how many times I’ve looked out these windows trying to convince myself that the deer laying on the side of the road was just really sleepy and picked a precarious spot to nap.

This wonderful car carries even more memories than miles, and currently counts zero accidents, one bizarre encounter with a bird, two speeding tickets and three really ill-timed breakdowns.

Both of my girls first learned how to drive in this car. The passenger armrest has embedded impressions of my fingernails as proof.

This car has carried Christmas trees and couches, groceries and golf clubs. It has been filled with items draped in nervous excitement en route to my daughter’s freshman dorm room, and items cradled in melancholy resolve after closing up the house my parents bought more than a half century earlier.

I would be embarrassed to admit the actual number of drive thru windows this car has seen, the number of mini-road rage swear words this car has heard or the number of parallel parking bumper taps this car has felt.

But, for me, what is most special about this car is the fact that my husband bought it for us. He sat in the driver seat. His hands held this steering wheel. He drove and played games and sang on what was to be our last family vacation to Florida for Easter 2010.

The few months that followed registered trips to places we never saw coming: doctor’s offices, hospitals, a funeral home and a cemetery.

So many miles saw me engaged in a form of distracted driving that didn’t involve technology, but rather all-consuming thoughts. The “what if” and “what now” internal conversations happened while the car was experiencing some form of sacred cruise control because I always arrived safely at my destination but not always aware of how I got there.

When that odometer finally hits 100K, I am certain I’ll try to connect some deep dramatic meaning to my exact location, where I’m headed or what song is playing on the radio.

I know I will glance in the rearview mirror surprised over the distance we’ve traveled since those trips we had hoped to never take.

And I will grasp that steering wheel for strength as we move forward, determined and hopeful that the miles ahead will be happy ones.

kmp

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The Working Title Is…I Need More Good Will in My Goodwill

With the changing of each season, a routine unfolds in my daughters’ bedrooms. Closets and drawers are reorganized and two piles of clothes are created: a pile to be handed down to the next family member in line and a pile to be donated to Goodwill.

The latter pile is generally composed of items that are either (a) lacking in luster having been handed down multiple times through sisters and cousins or (b) deemed a regrettable purchase like a Justin Bieber concert t-shirt or anything from Forever 21.

When it comes to my own clothes, I am a little slower to part with them. Although I still cling to the “if I just lose a little weight” section of my closet, I did finally let go of the “but what if I go back to work full-time” rationale and donated all of my old suits.

Wistful over that chapter of my life, and so taken with my own benevolence, I had tears in my eyes as I added a double-breasted Liz Claiborne purple suit with huge shoulder pads and giant gold buttons to the Goodwill pile. I thought to myself, “Damn, if only I knew where I put the earrings that matched those buttons, this would be like striking Goodwill Gold for some special lady.”

(Have I not mentioned that it’s been almost two decades since I logged a 40+hour workweek in heels?)

Giddy with altruism, my mind’s eye saw an entire scene play out. A tired woman, perhaps with a couple of kids in tow, leaves Goodwill with this suit, wears it to a successful job interview, and her whole life immediately falls into place.

Then I snapped out of my reverie and realized that in 2014, nothing good can come from a job interview if you are dressed like the outlet version of Alexis Carrington.

Just how “off the mark” I am was brought to light for me this week. I was invited to speak at the “Let Love Shine” fundraising event benefitting the Christ Child Society of South Bend, Indiana.

They are an amazing group with an approach to giving that makes a very important distinction; one that I have underappreciated in my own household.

Since 1947, the Christ Child Society of South Bend has opened their doors to families who have fallen on hard times and need a little help. They provide kids with brand new clothing, brand new shoes and brand new books. They operate a Clothing Center that serves close to 4,500 children each year, and the gratitude felt by those families shines brighter than the illustrious Gold Dome that graces their town.

Through the donation of new clothing, new shoes and new books, they are empowering children. They are infusing confidence in these young lives and celebrating their individuality.

Who knows what ripple effect their kindness will have on those children, on their community and, perhaps, our entire world?

The powerful example of the Christ Child Society of South Bend makes me think twice about how I should define good will. Their devotion to their community is beyond inspirational.

And, above all, isn’t it wonderful to know that something good can actually come out of this tiny little town in northern Indiana?

kmp

PS: Easy Domers. I kid, I kid.IMG_3941

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