Friday nights

Remember Friday night when you were in high school? We'd watch Miami Vice and those pastel shirts, no socks, and fast boats. Or Friday Night Portland Wrestling, watching Rowdy Roddy Piper and many other soon-to-be-famous names, interrupted frequently with Tom Peterson's "Wake up" commercials for really bad furniture. We'd almost always get Papa Murphy's take and bake pepperoni pizza, have homemade root beer or Crush orange soda. It was high society in my family.

It's Friday night. I sit, feet up, watching a movie with family after a nice and mellow dinner. A nice, peaceful feeling settles over me.

It's been an intense week, full of memories that were painful and sad. I feel blessed to have this day with my kids at the zoo, a night spent without stress or fear, the way it could have been - had I stayed the path I originally chose. I am here because I was not weak. I am content because I take what I am given and embrace it. I accept the bumps in the road for what they are - lessons that teach me who I am. I love with wild abandon and refuse to change who I am, anymore, for anyone else, unless it feels right.

That doesn't mean I don't want for things. I have a new wish I've made, and I look forward to seeing what comes of this. My wings could use a little Featherbrite, Fireblossom. My life will not be the same in a year, and I look forward to the adventure on which I embark. My summer is full of new beginnings and my future is full of hope. I wonder if my park will be full of dragonflies again? It's been a long, long time.