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  • Writer's pictureerikaraskin

follow-thru and follow-up (to last post)

My niece and I met halfway this afternoon — and we did it!

While I wouldn’t say it was pleasant I didn’t cry or throw up. And neither did Yaya.

Emaline, my eldest, said more than once that she was proud of us. Which is a little funny, if you think about it.

Yaya’s mom called while we were at the drug store getting the requisite post-ink ointment.  Knowing that she was going to give me grief for corrupting her college sophomore, I preempted the attack by reminding her that she was the one person in the whole family who knew when Emaline took an unsanctioned cross-country trip with her boyfriend when she was nineteen.

(This may have have been thirteen years ago. But long memory.)

She responded that she will be taking my not-yet-here grandboy off for his first earring. (Game on, my friend. Game on.)

Anyway, I will look at my wrist and remember that it symbolizes healing and perseverance and family. And it will make me smile. When it stops hurting.

ps. #irony:


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