December 31 – Just Me

by Lisa Bankson-Hacker

woman on green field under blue skies

I am an insomniac who often spends hours in the middle of the night worrying about things that will likely never happen.

I am a woman with chubby knees and shoulders best suited for a junior high quarterback.

I am a mom who notoriously forgets to mail a birthday card, despite spending the week before their birthday reminiscing on their importance in my life.

I am a driver who sometimes goes a little too fast, but always pulls over for funeral processions and says a little prayer.

I am a cook who rarely works from recipes, then wonders why the meatloaf tastes a little different than it did last time.

I am a dog lover who can't resist the whining dachshund scratching at my bedroom door.

I am a wife who often feels invisible.

I am an instructor who gets to the end of each semester and commiserates over the lessons I never got around to.

I am a shopper who cannot walk away from a clearance rack.

I am a child of the 80s who greatly misses roller skating rinks, MTV, and Duran Duran.

I am the church member who sings loudly, yet imperfectly, at the top of my lungs during worship service.

I am the unsteady hand that has never been adept at using an eyebrow pencil.

I am the dreamer who really wants to go back to school for that PhD, but wonders if I'm too old.

I am the crafty one who loves to crochet scarves but has no one in Texas to give them to.

I am the couch potato who can spend hours watching CSI Miami and Dateline reruns.

I am the drinker who loves a good dry red.

I am the lover who loves to be loved.

I am the boss who always gives you the day off when you need it.

I am the tutor who sees good things in everything you write.

I am the friend who often disappears when the world gets a little too crowded.

I am the patient who questions why, and wonders when she will be well.

I am the writer who craves more time to write, then squanders it with daydreams and doodles.

I am a woman like you, my friend: different, but more alike than we know.

Lisa is a community college writing center supervisor, an adjunct writing instructor at a local university, and a freelance writer. She lives in Santa Fe, Texas, and enjoys traveling and crochet. She looks forward to the day when she can live in a little house in the woods, in the middle of nowhere. Her website is www.writingthequeensenglish.com.

Linda Hoye lives in her hometown in Saskatchewan, Canada, with her husband and their doted-upon Yorkshire Terrier. She is the author of The Presence of Absence: A Story About Busyness, Brokenness, and Being Beloved and Two Hearts: An Adoptee’s Journey Through Grief to Gratitude and Living Liminal: A Slice of Pandemic Life. Find her online at www.lindahoye.com where she ponders ordinary days and the thin places where faith intersects.