It’s been a long time since I last saw you, when mom and George went to visit you in Laguna Beach. Forty years to be exact. I loved that enclave you lived in, a little single-story apartment on a sweeping hill that rose up from the shore. It was my first trip to California.

I remember shopping with mom for a swimsuit, finding that tops and bottoms were sold separately. What a novelty! We ate at some great restaurants and I had never seen a prawn before. We went to dinner at the home of friends of yours, a beautiful home I now understand is worth millions today. I remember the daughter wearing a pristine, all-white tennis outfit, perfectly tanned with long, glossy dark hair, and feeling so utterly awkward and uncool. I wanted nothing more than to go sit on a cozy couch and read my book or take another walk from your apartment to the beach.

I admit I haven’t thought of you in as many years. I was going through a box of “stuff” I’ve saved over the years of my youth, things like elementary school artwork, a souvenir book from Colonial Williamsburg, the Shawn Cassidy Scrapbook I poured over at the tender age of 8, my sorority paddles, and a little brown book – Into the Woods.

That was a gift you sent me from California, inscribed by your hand on the inside cover – “my face beamed a smile and my heart burst out in song when I received your graduation announcement.” At the bottom you said, “spend some time with this book, it’s wonderfully inspiring.” Bill, I’m so sorry – I did not spend more than a glance. Today, however, I took the time to read it cover to cover. It may have taken me a long time to find my own spirituality, but I leaned into God more times than I can count now – in the last fifteen years or so.

So much has happened since you last saw that insecure 15-year-old girl. I became a cheerleader and met my first serious boyfriend. I broke up with him after he graduated because I wanted to date someone else. (Spoiler: I never did go out with that guy.) I dated someone else the last half of my senior year until I broke up with him to date a frat boy who caught my attention at college.

I went to college at Susquehanna University. I majored in English. Mom and George split up before then, but George visited me at school and we kept in touch for a little while. Not long enough, and I went the way most young adults do… living my best life with friends and not giving a single thought to the adults who loved and missed me. I understand this now on such an acute level today.

I joined a sorority, much to mom’s horror. (To be fair, she also balked at my decision to cheer in high school.) I loved those days. That frat boy? He was the one who took me into New York City one weekend, where I first laid eyes on the purple flags around Washington Square Park.

Months later I met yet another frat boy, one many of my sisters knew and loved, who placed himself in my way so that I could not miss him. I might never have fallen in love if he’d never done that. It’s not necessarily a regret, yet in retrospect I could have done without that chapter. You know I believe that there are hard regrets that nearly break you and then there are the soft regrets that you can look back on with a spiney combination of reverence and a self-chastisement. Like knowing better.  

So I left Susquehanna and all those sisters for the bright lights of New York University. I can’t really recall my parents’ reactions. Stunned. Where-did-you-get-this-idea, open-mouthed reaction. You might say that this is how I roll. How I have rolled, most of my life. Taking an idea, or an opportunity, or an offer, and running with it. Sometimes it was the best thing I ever did. Sometimes it was like running with scissors.

The frat boy dumped me. Devastating. But NYU was awesome! Living in New York was a dream. It was an experience I will cherish for the rest of my life. I learned how fiercely independent I am, I became street-smart, I learned how to [safely] navigate the world with a sense of adventure and self-confidence and freedom.

My dad got remarried and they had a child – my brother! He is 23 years my junior and we see each other mostly regularly and I adore him. He is a brilliant human and it’s so fun to know him as adults, together.

I graduated a full year later than I should have due to financial issues that were out of my control and then I moved home to work in mom’s restaurant – the one she and George bought but she finished and opened in 1988. It is solely and singularly hers. She is the restaurant and the restaurant is Her.

You wouldn’t believe how beautiful it is! She’s been open for 37 years. So many people love it and they love HER. It’s amazing to see. She’s like a celebrity. So many people who come in just want to see her, to meet her, to know her.

There was a succession of “situationships” after that guy from SU who dumped me, all with varying degrees of commitment and/or depravity. I got caught up in bad relationships that damaged me, and others that defined some part of me that I still hold close to my heart today.

When I moved home after college I got caught up in one of the worst. He showed me how bad a soul could be – lost in sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I dallied in situations that intrigued me and satiated some nefarious curiosities. I’m a Gemini, after all. I wanted to experience it ALL.

After all of that, I met and married a man I thought I loved. Do you know what a narcissist is? I didn’t. I fell hard and fast for him and when things went sour soon after, I had no idea that he was anything other than an asshole. We had two gorgeous children together.

I have never loved anyone like I love my two children. They are incredible humans (I know everyone says that). My son will be 25 soon, and my daughter is 20. He is working in a job he enjoys and working towards his graduate certificate, and my daughter – last I heard, is still in pre-med.

When she was 2 years old, she was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. It was one of the hardest things I had ever been through – and our family struggled during that time as we managed and adjusted and fought ugly fights. In retrospect, I realize that it was another notch in my battle belt that reinforced what I’m made of while my ex crumbled and blamed me for the disease at every turn.

Five years ago, during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, the universe that designs my challenges said, hold my beer. My ex made good on a long-ago promise that if I ever left him, he’d take the kids away from me. Today, we have a thin thread of connection after some three years of no contact. I cannot adequately express what this has done to me and I won’t even try, but you can well imagine.

It was during this time that I revisited my faith and have at many times asked God for direction and guidance. I learned that it’s in His hands. To let go and let God. I laid praise for all the blessings I’ve had. That He led me out of that toxic marriage and held me up when I was falling down with fear and grief and stress. That I got a second chance with that first love – we’ve been back together for 14 years, married for 13, and I cannot imagine my life without him. He is so good to me, Bill. He loves me for everything that I am – the good, the bad, the ugly – though he often says it is HE who is lucky that I love HIM. He is genuinely GOOD.

He stood beside me when things got really bad and he never wavered. His family welcomed me with open arms. He loved my children, though they’ve also broken his heart. He won’t talk about it anymore, and that breaks mine.

The last few weeks I’ve had a sort of weakness creep in and with it feelings I know all too well but want no parts of, ever again. It’s a dangerous place, I think, to decide that – I’m done. And that’s when I turned on the radio and listened to a pastor who has inspired me a hundred times or more since 2010 when I decided I’d had enough. It’s through his stories and scriptures that I’ve found a sort of inner peace. I’ve given my worries over to God. I’m trusting Him as I know He has brought me through difficulties before and I am blessed.

I’m 56 now, and I am so very lucky to have both Mom and Dad. Mom and I talk every day. I thank God for these relationships. I don’t get to see Dad enough. I’m scared of the day, Bill, if you know what I mean. I am acutely aware that the days are numbered – as they have always been, but we are all older now. I’m busy trying to stay out of my head and just live each day with positivity in my heart and a trust that God has got me.

I read the book you sent me all those years ago, cover to cover, for the first time last week. I paid special attention, for the first time noticing, the two pages you dog-eared. Thank you for sharing this book with me, that I should find faith along the way, even if it took me a couple of decades!

You also wrote on the inside cover:

If I could have one wish to make

And have it granted true

I’d wish that I could spend my life

Forever friends with you.

If I could build a world for you

With peace that never ends

Then all mankind will be as one

With everyone as Friends.

Friends we are and Friends we’ll be

Friends forever, you and me

Take my hand and we shall see

Together what the world can be.

I wanted you to know that I am well and full of faith and blessings, and I hope that you are too.

To quote a friend, God bless you and be with you always.

Yours,

Tara