I WAS WAITING for lunch today at one of our favorite downtown spots, Krazy Cakes, when a gal approached me and asked me how the "new venture" was going.
She was vaguely familiar. I ran into a million people during my years at The Whig and I have a bad enough time remembering what Sharice, er, Sheryl's, name is, let alone a blast from the past. The gal was very pleasant and asked how my daughter was doing, then said she was the grandmother of one of Emily's QHS classmates and friends.
And then it dawned on me who she was.
Let's just say she had a family member who had serious issues a long time ago, and I became familiar with the story.
Many people who have had family on the wrong side of the courtroom became bitter and didn't like me, well, didn't like why I was there, anyway. I learned to let it go. I always tried to be as fair as possible, but it is what it is, and you can't paint the picture any other way.
But in this case, the woman couldn't have been nicer and we caught up a bit, and it was a very nice encounter.
You know what? It made me feel pretty good about a closed chapter in my life.
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