Nobody knew she was on fire when she got here. My mother: Joanne Cecilia Connor |
My mom, Joanne Cecilia Connor, remains the finest girl I've ever gotten to watch grow up. She died some number of years ago on a day exactly like this one. I remember it was more beautiful and more painful than any other day that had ever come before it. I woke up, today, with a complete and entire head full of my her. Therefore, we are going to pretend like I just opened up a leaping can of complete, unabridged Momo-sass on your beautifully crafted, behind, because I'm channeling Momo.
one You'd best leave it like you found it. This also sounds exactly like the following: Clean up after yourself or put your crap anywhere but where I can see it or if you touch my stuff, don't let me find out or I will whoop you like a red-headed stepchild.
Stuff like that.
three Always take a chance. Gamble. Risk a little of this for a lot of that. Talk to strangers. Put money on a race based on names that you like or numbers that made you wake up happy. Believe in the impossible and random greatness of life. Know that everything happens for a reason and there is no reason. Listen more than you speak because you never know when somebody will gift you with a story that could never be retold or made better. Make eye contact and ask questions. Bring home that band from Ireland because you know that you have two dozen eggs that are only good for three more days. Let them stay in your tipi until they book out. Be present and know that that is some risky business. Don't hold back or reserve or wait or hesitate. Believe. Be all in. This matters. (All of this. Right now. Now matters.)
moemasters thesethreethings 2013 ©
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