Mona Asked

And here it is:  my history, in five-year increments.

1972:  I was three years old, so I don’t remember much of anything.  I suspect this was the summer that I got burned from fluid that blew out of the family car’s radiator, but I don’t remember.  I only know about it from my siblings and a few pictures of me with my legs wrapped up–not from my own memory.

1977: I turned eight.  I was a voracious reader by this time and couldn’t get enough of the Young Lives biographies.  I used to spend a lot of time gazing into the third grade classroom.  They did cursive in third grade, and by golly, I wanted to do it, too!

1982:  I felt so awkward in middle school.  I was tall and gangly and one of the smart kids.  Some of the burnout girls wanted to beat me up, but I became friends with Maria, who was much tougher than I was and not at all bookish, and she scared off the bullies.  Maria passed away soon after high school graduation, and I’ve never forgotten her loyalty and kindness to me.  I was really into gothic romance novels at this age. 

1987:  An overnight trip to Boston with Cae!  Senior prom!  A vintage 1930s dress!  High school graduation!  I spent the first half of the year madly in love with the boy who became my first husband.  In July we broke up, but I had fun with my school chums.  I went to community college because I couldn’t afford a four-year school (I paid my own way through college, although my folks bought my books…they might have spent less on tuition!!).  I was working part time as a bank teller with a second part time job at a pharmacy.  That November Neal and I started dating—he took me on the best first date I ever had.   

1992:  I was in my second year of marriage.  I worked as a bank teller and encouraged my husband to quit his full-time job to pursue his music career.  I was frustrated because I felt unfulfilled by my job, but I made one of my best friends at that job.  Cheryl and I used to bike 8-15 miles after work every day.  F. and I moved into the apartment where we would live for nine years and gave up television, which lasted 14 years for me.  I began to make quilts and found great joy in playing with fabric.  I got my first tattoo.

1997:  I finally finished my bachelor’s degree.  I published my first essay and a poem.  I was happy in my marriage.  My oldest sister gave me a gift of funding for my last semester of school so I would be able to concentrate on my classes without working at all.  For the first time in my adult life, I felt that I was capable of fulfilling my goals.

2002:  I turned 33 and had the best birthday of my life:  my sister flew up to New York, and she joined me and F. for a day in Manhattan followed by dinner at my favorite restaurant in Peekskill, Zeph’s. That weekend, I took a call that was pivotal in changing my life:  F. was offered a European tour.  I worked hard that year to help him to save the money to go on the tour (despite what someone not in the business would think, it’s not a money-making venture; breaking even is a good thing), but when he came back, things were different.  In October I began talking to him about separating so that we could get our heads straight.  By Christmas I no longer knew the man I had loved with my whole soul. 

2007: I’m on the verge of marriage to a man I adore and who loves me with humor and zest and devotion and loyalty.  I’m nearly at the point of completing my MFA in creative writing, which brings me to a point in my dreams and goals that, five years ago, I would not have imagined possible.  I’m living in Connecticut again—not loving it as I believe I’m a New Yorker at heart—but happy to be with my man, near my folks, and close to my girlhood best friends.  That depth of friendship is precious.  I miss my dear friends in NM, but I talk to Dana about once a week (she totally understands that I can go on for an hour about the final episode of Sex and the City), and I’ve started a new knitting group…it won’t replace the one I left in the southwest, but already I feel more settled.  I feel more at peace with myself than I have in a long time, and I’m excited for my future—both as a writer and as a wife.