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I’m torn between telling you as much as I possibly can about myself in this one first blog post (impossible, of course) and knowing that once you begin to follow me regularly, you will know everything there is to know (and probably more than I know, so please help me learn more!).
So I decided to start out with a story.
A simple story.
One of those stories that happens for you in an instant, or without fanfare over time, but at some point gives you some meaning, some insight and maybe even a huge laugh.
So here is a little background:
I am newly divorced. I have two kids, an almost 10-year-old daughter and an almost 12-year-old son.
Mine is/was the “congratulations” kind of divorce, not the “I’m so sorry” kind of divorce. We are still great friends, live near by (like really near by), have the kids at our respective homes 50//50 (like really 50/50) and actually still sometimes hang out together, voluntarily, with the kids. (Reasons for divorce to be discussed in future posts, promise.)
So here’s the story….
After the nice Ex moved out, he would come back to my house regularly, sometimes daily, to pick up stuff, get the kids, etc. Actually, he still does come here regularly.
We live in South Florida, in a very hot, humid tropical climate. I have a mango tree in my backyard. This tree was actually his tree far more than it was ever mine. He bought it, planted it, watered it, loved it and ate its mangoes, for eight or nine years before he moved out.
I just looked at it and liked to tell people that I had a mango tree in my backyard (often an impressive thing in the minds of people outside of Florida). The tree is now a grown and beautiful thing that yields delicious mangoes every May/June.
So when he moved out, he was truly saddened that he couldn’t take the mango tree with him.
Like for-real sad.
Like, I know he gave some serious thought to ways in which it could somehow be transported and transplanted to his new place.
Like…..he would go into the backyard, sometimes with me knowing, sometimes not, and stuff mangoes into his tiny little Walmart plastic bag and run back to his car. (Even when they weren’t ripe and ready to be picked.)
I could have made a big deal or asked him not to do this or at least urged him to wait for all of them to be ripe.
But I didn’t.
I let him continue this ritual for a few weeks. It was likely his own way of dealing with the situation, a mourning of sorts. I let him do his thing and eventually it ended. (Not because he didn’t want more, but because the tree stopped yielding mangoes.)
But while I kept my cool and my mouth shut with the Ex, I let it all loose with my group of friends. (More – much more – on them later, but for now just know that we have no secrets, that no one is safe when we are all together and that we make everything – everything! – into a big joke.)
Everything that came up from my almost-divorced stories became fodder for a mango-related joke with my never-let-a-joke-die friends.
So around the same time that the Mango Adventures were going on, I realized that my SunPass was gone from my car. (SunPass is one of those little plastic things you put on your car windshield for toll roads and highways.)
I couldn’t find it anywhere and couldn’t figure out how it was gone in the first place since it had been, at last glance, firmly affixed to the inside of my car windshield. Looked everywhere, couldn’t find it. Cancelled the account, got a new one and all was well.
But….when I mentioned in passing to my friends that it was missing, they leapt on this information like vultures going in for the kill.
Of course…..the “Mango Caper” must’ve taken the SunPass as well!
“Maybe he needed the SunPass to help the mangoes go down smoother!”
“Maybe the mangoes started charging him tolls for picking and eating?”
“Mango stealing isn’t free, ya know!?”
And so on….
We had some great laughs over that, and I actually believed it a tiny bit because I couldn’t think of another person with access to it or with a need for it. It was a tenuous time with the split being so new and fresh, so I asked him just once about the SunPass, he said he had no idea where it was, and I left it at that.
All these months, I wondered what could’ve happened to the SunPass. I didn’t want to blame, but I had my suspicions. And if nothing else, it became fodder for some serious laughs.
Fast forward to yesterday morning…..
It was a crazy morning. I overslept (this NEVER happens) and had to drive my daughter to school because she missed the bus. Then, during her morning walk, my dog ate a dead frog. Whole. It was disgusting and I was panicked that it would poison or, at the least, sicken, her. Called the Vet, took Kid #2 to school, made lunches, breakfasts, somehow showered….and so on.
In the midst of this madness that is my life, I reached into a tote bag to grab sunglasses pair #4 because #1-3 were nowhere to be found.
And my hand happened upon a hard plastic box-like thing.
I brought it out and….lo and behold….my SunPass!
It was here the whole time. Exactly where I apparently put it and forgot.
I didn’t have time to think about the deep meaning of my finding it in that crazy moment. Or maybe there is no deep meaning. Or the deep meaning is that there is no deep meaning.
Regardless of the “why,” I am reminded that:
1) I jump to conclusions way too much. And related, I assume too much before I know the real story. Working on that….
2) I’m not always right, even though I think deep down I think I am (see #1).
3) Making a joke out of anything in life has its merits. In fact, it is often the best way to deal with stuff. Whatever the “stuff” is. I’m trying to be less serious and more light and funny.
4) There is, after all, no connection between mangoes and highway tolls. Of that I am sure.
More Lifecasts: Allison Nazarian | Shannon Ball | Letters To A Cheating Spouse
About the Author: Allison Nazarian is an entrepreneur, an author, a Single Mom, a doer and a dreamer. Allison’s is an open, truthful and usually quite hilarious voice both in her professional and personal worlds (which collide constantly). Professionally, Allison is a marketing and writing coach and consultant. On the personal front, Allison, who is newly single (more on that in her Lifecast!), has also recently discovered (or remembered) that she is a lot of fun. Allison, who holds a B.A. from the University of Pennsylvania and an M.S. from Columbia University’s School of Journalism, has been featured in the Wall Street Journal, INC Magazine, Fortune Small Business and WomenEntrepreneur.com. You can connect with Allison professionally at AllisonNazarianUnlimited.com, through her blog at AllisonNazarian.com or on twitter with the user name @AllisonNazarian