Today I am also hangin’ at Hopeful Parents
I did a search on mole people and found that in urban legend, they are the groups of people that live underground in the subway system.
And them I found him….
Alas my mole person….
I named him Harvey.
My life has evolved to a deeper level. After Samantha, copious amounts of small talk, surface-level talk drives me insane.
I no longer do well at parties with people I don’t know. Here’s how I imagine my conversations…..
“Yes I like to dabble in scrap booking but ever since we adopted our eighth cat, I’m just way too busy.”
I imagine myself casually taking the last cheese straw and saying “Yeah, well, my daughter died.”
But Idon’t , I don’t do this. But these surface level conversations make me crazy.
I want to take things to a deeper level….let’s dig deep, go below the surface, where it is dark and dirty, where it’s kind of stinky….where life is real.
And I love those who go with me. I love my mole people.
On Monday I went back to the job I left four years ago when Samantha got sick. I have been amazed at the people who stop by my desk with tears in their eyes and say, “I am so glad your back but I am so sorry about Samantha. I’m sorry you couldcome back because she is no longer here.”
It’s messy, it’s dirty, they don’t have to take things to a deeper level but they do. They allow me talk about my pain, my life…the muddy, crappy, poo that unravels when you go a little deeper.
And I am so very appreciative.
I love my mole people. And if you’re hangin’ with me, congrats, you have received mole person status.
Although you are much prettier than my green buggy friend above.