Sojourner
I would like to be a cup-half-full person. I regularly sit down with myself and go over all the good things that are happening, all the good that has happened, and the good that will surely be in the future. But, it is not my first reaction. I know that with the joys, life is a series of sorrows that can’t be circumvented. My family loved to catastroph-fy. We would hold intense debates over how to spend the insurance money should a parent die. (We were always on the edge of financial destitution. I believe we slunk out of several towns with unpaid bills in our wake.) By the time I was in 10th grade I had been in 8 different schools in 8 different towns. I loved moving. My sister and brother would moan and fight and cry about moving, but I loved it. (One time, after the announcement of an imminent move, my sister was so traumatized she had the hiccups for days.) For my ever-optimistic mother, relocation signaled a new start. Moving didn’t mean new start to me. ...

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