When You Find Yourself Through the Fingerprints of Others

Twenty-one years ago today, I received a bouquet of flowers and a balloon at school from my grandparents who lived 60+ miles away.  I remember wondering how they found a florist who would drive so far for a delivery.  We had moved to Richland Center, WI only a few months before, and that moment when I read the card was the first time I had felt like myself since moving there.

Please understand; the teachers and students were very welcoming and friendly.  In fact Rachel used to tell the story about how she and Jenny Larson argued about who would show me, the new girl, around on her first day.  Unfortunately, I only remember the girls' bathroom from that tour.  This move though was not my family's first, and I think they were just wearing me down.  That day though with the flowers and balloon; it was a turning point for me in Richland Center.

The following weekend I had my first and last birthday party of my childhood.  Yes, I had sleepovers with one or two friends for my birthdays growing up, but this was my only authentic birthday party.  For my 8th birthday, we invited Rachel James, Kelly Keene, Jenny Larson, Nicole Krug, Danielle Stussy, Marci Hill and Maria King to my house for games and cake.  I wonder if there is a picture of all of us somewhere.  I remember at one point crying in our fort because I thought people were having more fun with my aunt Pati than with me.  She did make a cool cake and rocked at tetherball.  I remember thinking though that the crying really made it my party.  "It's My Party" by Lesley Gore seemed to be influencing my understanding of a successful part.

Something about that birthday - the bouquet from my grandparents, my mom and aunt throwing me a party, the friends I had only known a few weeks coming to celebrate with me - has influenced how people permanently affect my heart and personality.  I wonder if people realize the emotional impact the connections we had have had on me.  I feel as though my heart and soul are much like the Hollywood Walk of Fame on Hollywood Blvd and Vine St; each person whom I've had a relationship with has left their mark - their fingerprints perhaps - on whom I am.

If you're reading this and have been a part of my life, I want you to know that I would not be who I am today if it weren't for you.  Thank you for touching my life.

*Note: If you were at my 8th birthday party and I didn't list you, please forgive me.  I'm getting old.*