StevenVinson.com

“You’re not adopted?” Gracie was quite upset with her older sister.
“No.”
“All this time.” Gracie wiped a tear. “Wait. Am I adopted?”
“Yes.”
“I just… Why? Why did mom and dad say you were? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Gracie, we all still love you. You are an amazing…”
“Hold on. You keep saying shit like that. You have to stop saying shit like that.”
“But it’s true.”
“I know it’s true. I know it. I get it. I’m an amazing women. People love me. I make a big difference. Blah, blah, blah. But I’m adopted. And you’re not and…” Her red cheeks were now wet with tears.
“Gracie…”
“How long have you known?”
“Mom told me at the hospital. The night before she died.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t mom tell me?”
“Tell you what? That you’re big sister was born before they had any money? That they were this close to giving me up for adoption? That mom changed her mind at the last minute and broke that other couple’s heart?”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s right, Gracie. Mom and dad almost gave me away. The mom just couldn’t do it. Dad was furious, she said.” Now it was Gracie’s sister’s turn to cry. “A few years after I was born, dad got that job at the steel mill. Made great money.”
“So they adopted me?”
“They tried like crazy to get pregnant. But it just wouldn’t work. So after a long time, they decided to adopt. Said it was somehow a way to make up for not letting that other couple have me.”
“I don’t know what to say. You’ve been a great sister. The best. But you are the real daughter.”
“Now you stop that, Gracie! Don’t you see? Can’t you see the truth? I’m the one they didn’t really want! They were going to give me away. You…” She placed her face in her hands. “They wanted you so bad that they went and found you.”
Gracie was stunned. She hadn’t thought of that. Ever. She had always assumed that mom and dad adopted them out of pity or desperation. She had felt loved but she always assumed there was a certain level of manufactured family closeness.
Gracie spoke softly. “It’s finally clear to me. You and I, we saved each other.”
“How’s that, Gracie?”
“You showed them how much love they had to give. They loved you so much that they needed another child to pour their love into. So they went out and got me.”
“And you taught me how to love myself. And how to love others.”
“Well. I’m glad we got that settled. Now lets go have some ice cream with our lawyer so we can sue the hell out of that drunk driver that killed your biological parents!”
<dear reader: I sincerely apologize for that lame ending. I get it. It sucks. No. Really. It's horrible. But, look. You didn't pay anything other than a few minutes if your time and besides, I had to wrap it up. It's late and I must arise early to go make a few bad decisions while riding a bike across Iowa (www.ragbrai.com).>

Clem O. Pratt has tapeworms. He’s lying up in the hospital now. Wasting away. The Biltricide didn’t work so now he has an obstructed bowel.
He used to eat like crazy. Hamburgers, pork chops, fried chicken all at one sitting. His ma told him to stop eating like that. That he was going to get the gout. Clem told her to mind her own business. But Clem’s ma sees his health as her business. Her dead husban’s gas station pays the bills. And Clem runs it while she sits around all day gossiping.
She was so worried that Clem was eating himself to death. Betsy from Owen County had the answer. She said her Uncle got a tapeworm when he was in Africa during the war. Couldn’t eat for weeks until they finally figured out what was wrong. Ever since then he has no appetite. Betsy was just sharing a story. She didn’t intend to give Clem’s am any ideas. But sometimes we inspire others in ways we don’t intend.
Clem’s ma started cooking for him. Clem was surprised but happy to have a good meal after a hard day at the gas station.
He kind of thought the hamburgers and pork chops were not quite done. And they tasted funny. Then after awhile he found he couldn’t eat as much.
Clem’s ma was happy that her plan was working. Until the Clem was screaming in pain from the bathroom.
Now he can’t eat. Or work. And Clem’s ma needs a new plan.

Sometimes you just wanna write. There are times when you need to get your thoughts out and get them down in black and white. This is not one of those times.
I intend for this to be read. I’ll journal somewhere else.
So anyway. Have you ever planned a party for 48 people? Have you ever planned a party for 48 people that is to last an entire weekend?
Tonight was the kickoff for a 3 day extravaganza. For 48 people. And I plan to make it as fun as possible.
So there you have it.