Welcome readers, old and new!
Please don’t forget to hit the ❤️ to remember that forgiveness—especially self-forgiveness—is an exercise worth practicing every day.
By the time you read this, I’ll be ensconced in my palm-sized apartment in Tokyo, trying to remember how the appliances work and what time the supermarkets open. My identity morphs from girlfriend ➡️ Grammie—a challenging transition as in Japan I’m usually the oldest person in the room, and my son is solicitous about my advanced age and safety to the point where I need to remind him (and myself) I can get along fine without supervision. (To his credit, I’ve required medical care on a couple of trips, first with a slipped disc in my back and then with a fractured ankle when I missed a step at my granddaughter’s gym.)
When I left the kids’ apartment one evening, my son called out, “Bye, Mom! Try not to break anything!” Knowing my visits are time-limited affects me on a meta-level, especially when M says with great affection, “Grammie, I’m glad you’re not dead yet.”
Me, too, Baby. Me, too.
🐉 🐉 🐉
An interesting question arrived from a tattoo-curious reader weighing the pros and cons of permanent body decor. I can’t imagine getting a tattoo, so I asked an astute beauty journalist who has been inking for years for her best advice.
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