Today I went into the bedroom before heading out to pick up the girls from school, and there on the bed was a broken DVD -- the recording of me performing in Steel Magnolias, so long ago. Just laying broken in several pieces. Felt like my heart was ripped right out. I know on one level it's a little thing. But it's not a little thing to me. It's not a little thing at all. That little dvd held a precious memory -- of who I once was, of who, independent of all of this, I still am. It was going to be something my grandchildren could watch to see a different side of grandma. I gave up that part of myself, it's gone. It was a trade. But now I don't even get to share the memory of it. And that makes me so very, very sad.
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