Earmarked

Remember in the "old days" when you would go on vacation and come home anxious to check the answering machine for messages from your friends or the stack of mail waiting to be sifted through?

My sister and I couldn't wait to see the red number flashing on the machine...I think when we were both teenagers, the record of messages was around 25. I think my parents wanted to rip out the phone right then and there.

Then there was the mail: I loved going through the huge pile that sat on the hutch by the front door. As I raced to unpack my portion of the car (had to unpack before listening or sifting) I'd imagine what magazines and letters I had waiting for me. I had great pen pals: camp friends, cousins, friends who had moved away. And then the magazines--ooh to see the new one just waiting to have the pages earmarked!

Well, cell phones have taken away the joy of anticipating the answering machine when I come home...and I doubt that in this stage of my life, any of my friends would call to tell me who they saw kissing so-and-so at the local pool...but you never know. :)

So I still cling to the excitement over the pile of mail that is waiting for me. It truly makes me giddy.

Sort of silly, since I can't just toss the bills, credit card applications, AKA: boring stuff, to the side anymore. But ohhhh do I look forward to the occasional letters, notes, cards, postcards, magazines.

I am happy to say that I had a few postcards, a letter, and two magazines. My favorite magazine was one of the two, so I put it to the side to enjoy after O-man went to sleep.

When I got to page 73 and saw a photo of a couple holding the hands of a child, I immediately focused on the title/subtitle:

my one and only

Should we have another child or leave well enough alone? 

A great, sincere article. So many of the author's words brought my emotions to the surface--especially the honest to God truth that family building can be halted by what she called "the nasty, shameful issue of money." Oh how I, along with many, can relate.

The last paragraph is a grouping of words that have me sitting up well past my bedtime:

"Or perhaps in another lifetime I will meet my other child, the one I won't be having.
Or she will come to me in a dream in this life, and we will live together every night,
after I fall asleep.
Yes, I say to myself, yes. It isn't that she doesn't exist.
It is just that she lives on the other side, and I will visit her and love her there." 

This may be a far stretch from the articles I used to earmark (How to Tell if Your Boyfriend Loves You!) but I'm so glad this magazine was in my anticipated mail pile today. It was just what I needed to read.