That time I went to Springfield for a wedding

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ― Maya Angelou

I’ve read the above quote countless times. It’s sweet and poetic, but it’s never struck me as undeniably true as it does right now, after spending a few days with people who choose me as their family. Returning to my “real life” has been a challenge, because of the unconditional love showered upon me by these people who choose me, again and again, to be their own. It’s an amazing feeling.

And so it was a few weekends back, when I drove to Springfield for the wedding of someone I am not related to, but who could not be described any other way than “family”. Johanna Jane – JJ, as we know her – is the stepsister of my “brother,” Mike Rice. He and I have been family since the day we met, back in the late 90s. It happened quite by accident (I cannot aim a Frisbee well enough to hit someone on purpose, thankyouverymuch) and proves to be the happiest error in aim I’ve ever made. 

The Illinois State Capitol; so pretty!

My arrival at the hotel was met almost immediately by gleeful shouts from my nieces, Kaylee, Isabel and Alice. Indeed, they were happy to see me; thus launched the parade of faux-bros, sisters and parents. So many hugs. So much love.

Folding into Mike and Rae’s arms is like going home. It doesn’t matter where we are; inside their hugs, I am exactly where I belong. Cindy and Charlie greeted me as only parents can (“Was your drive okay? Are you hungry? Here, have some pizza”) and then I got to see Ryan, my favorite Marine.

He and I became fast friends years ago on the first family vacation after Charlie married Cindy and Clan Rice/Carlson was born. And yes, I give him a lot of the credit for helping me become that runner I am today. Lamppost to lamppost; that’s how he taught me. That’s how the running started. Now my lampposts are miles apart, and I’m running the whole way.

And so, the weekend began. A solitary trip to Target ended with me picking up brother James at the train station and meeting brothers Chunk and Mike at a pub. Over onion rings and beer we laughed and joked and looked forward to what the weekend would bring. Returning to the hotel, I caught a good night’s sleep before the main event the next day.

My three "brothers", Mike, Chunk and James Rice

Saturday morning was run day for me, so I hit the treadmill. There were mirrors in the tiny gym inside the hotel. I don’t like watching myself run, so I concentrated on my music, and the fact that there were waffles available in the breakfast room. Soon enough, I was there.

And there was coffee. And it was good.

There was enough time to primp and prettify, and then it was time to head to the wedding, which was blissfully inside the hotel complex. Easiest commute ever. I met up with the Rice boys, who looked completely handsome and dapper. But that was nothing compared to the lady-folk; these are women who know how to dress up! For an afternoon, I was convinced I was among the Beautiful People; quite nice, yes? Yes.

Between the wedding and reception, I retired to the room to relax and have a glass of wine. Soon my room was full of family, and we had to get more wine. And Scotch. And shortly after that, it was reception time.  

Kaylee and Rae, relaxing between the wedding and reception.

The food was good. The company was better. There, among those people, I felt everything good, everything joyful and everything right. It was a perfect storm of awesome. These people, this love they share with me, just fills me up. I felt beautiful, intelligent, funny and fun, because of the version of me they reflect back at me. I felt lovely and alive.

Not ready to let go of the night after the reception closed down, I found myself having a nightcap with Ryan and his wife, Erinn, and doing a bit more catching up. It was one of those nights when the ability to stop time would have been truly handy; there wasn’t enough time to tell all the stories that begged to be told before sleepiness took hold and it was time to go back to my room and sleep.

Saying goodbye the next day was cleansing and awful. Sometimes I can leave them without so much as a tear, but on this weekend I just couldn’t hold them back. I didn’t want to; I just let them go, thanking my lucky stars I’d gone without mascara that morning. It is impossible to say goodbye to these people. They light my life; they magnify my joy. And the way they make me feel … it’s just beyond.

For someone like me, who plays with words for a living, it’s hard to not be able to describe something. But that’s where I’m at here – there is just no way to use something as simple as English to explain something that feels so otherworldly. These are the people who found me at age 30 and made me their own. They don’t take the place of my biological family; instead, they make up a tree of their own, and they’ve let this Maggie-shaped branch grow right into it. I’m not sure I deserve it. But I hope they never figure that out.

Lessons and moments

Last weekend - or as I call it, Birthday Weekend II - I was blissfully able to spend three days in Wisconsin. The original reason for the trip was to volunteer for Ironman Wisconsin, in which three friends were participating. However, the weekend wound up full of activities, and lessons came along for the ride.

I'm an actual grown-up. Sort of.
I had an automotive incident, and I didn't call my father for advice. I relied on my resources - roadside assistance through my auto insurance, and the recommendations of good friends. And my weekend carried on as planned.

Small towns do things differently.
In Lake Geneva, my hairdresser's mechanic checked out El Guapo (the Jeep) while I had my hair cut (and colored, fonder and blonder). And he didn't charge me for tightening and cleaning the battery cables. This is not how we do things in Chicagoland ... and it's rather refreshing.

Stay flexible. 
On Sunday, I was signed up to volunteer at IronMan Wisconsin, in Madison. I arrived in Madison at about 11:10 for a noon assignment, but no one could point me in the proper direction to find my post. When I was about ready to give up, I found a Starbuck's. Things were looking up! And as I was walking in, my friend Lisa found me. She was there to watch a friend of hers, so I took that as a sign that I wasn't meant to volunteer, but rather hang out with my friend. We stayed together and watched our friends finish the bike portion. It was great fun!

The beautiful Lisa, and me.

Watching a friend kick ass is awesome.

This woman, and two other friends, competed in the IronMan, and seeing them accomplish the incredible athletic feats (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a marathon - 26.2 mile run) was moving; I was unprepared for that.

The inimitable Carrie Mills,
roughly halfway through the marathon portion of Ironman Wisconsin.

I wasn't prepared for tears as I watched Carrie finish her bike ride. I wasn't prepared for them when she and Pat (on the left side of the photo, above) passed me twice on the run. I certainly wasn't prepared for the unbridled joy I felt as I watched them run toward the finish line. I don't think I've ever been more proud, or more resolved to continue working on my own fitness goals. I may never be an IronMan, but I will continue to make progress. 

Taking a day of rest is a good thing.

I took Monday off, because I knew Sunday night might be pretty late. (It was.) So that meant I would wake up in Lake Geneva, have breakfast, and relax for awhile. I spent a few hours on the front balcony, feeling more beautifully rested than I have in a long time. Pretty awesome.

In a hammock, reading a book. Perfect morning.

Food is good. Friends are better.

It's not a trip to Wisconsin without dropping by Dale's. And it's not a visit with Dale without eating delicious food. Seriously, the guy can cook. We chatted, sat outside on the deck (yes, it was hot, but it was pretty), surveyed the leftover stuff from his estate sale and listened to good music. And he cooked this:

Chile relleno en sauza oaxaca con camarones.

So completely delicious. But the best part, truly, was just being in that place, with friends stopping by and laughing until our sides hurt. I say all the time that I have good people, but sometimes it's smart to appreciate it in the moment.

The big lesson, I suppose, is in enjoying the moment when it's happening. This weekend was all about moments - whether they were big ones, like sitting with Carrie after she finished the race, or small ones, like eating an omelette with Jeremiah on Monday morning. I don't think I missed a single moment last weekend, and I am extremely grateful for that.

Birthday Month

At some point in time - circa 1986 or so - I stopped celebrating my birthday. One day, it seemed, simply wasn't enough, so I started having a birthday weekend. Over time, it grew and evolved and within a few years it became what it is today.

September: my birthday month.

You can thank my best friend Patrick for that. He introduced all of his nearest and dearest to the concept, and helped us celebrate in big and small ways. And so it began ...

Perhaps at some point, I should have grown up and relinquished my grip upon the idea of celebrating for not just a day. But as a girl who has always had to share her birthday (twin bro, ftw!), it's kinda fun to give yourself a reason to whoop it up all month long.

And so we begin Birthday Month 2013. It will include lots of celebrations that have nothing to do with me, including watching friends complete their second Ironman Triathlon in Wisconsin, and attending the wedding of friends who are truly more like family. It will also include a couple races, and maybe some hula pie.

What it always seems to include is a little introspection, too. My birthday always brings with it a sense of nostalgia, a longing for time that's escaped me. There are many things I wish I'd done differently in life, and sometimes it's emotional. Yeah, this year I've already been stuck in my head a fair amount, but I'll allow it ... as long as it doesn't keep me from celebrating. It's hard to forget that on my birthday in 2001, I got married ... and by the time our fifth anniversary rolled around, the prince of a guy I married had moved out and moved on. It is what it is, but I will probably always have a little bit of "what if" in me - what if I'd said "I don't" and all that? But my marriage was a learning experience, and I hope I let it change me for good.

I will be spending this month stretching myself - literally, by getting back to yoga, and figuratively, by asking a bit more of myself as I work toward my goals. It won't be easy (hell, I have big goals - from saving money to running a faster half marathon) but it will be worth it. I am not getting any younger, and that's pretty much crystal clear this year. This, my friends, is go time.

I can't think of a better time to continue getting started. Next year at this time, I hope to have some solid results. The time will pass, anyway ... go!