represents. It's a symbol--of the last concession they will ever make, the last fight they will ever have, the last connection between them. By walking away from that trivial object, they have to face the end of their marriage and all the hopes and dreams they once had together. It's tough.
Now, I know it's not manual labor, but mediation can be pretty exhausting. Although I love it, I couldn't do it every day. That's why I spent the rest of the afternoon goofing off, surfing the internet and shooting the breeze with my office mates. I decided to research horseback riding so I could get a leg up (ha ha) on my big date with Kip, which was less than twenty-four hours away. What I was looking for was tips on how to do it, what I found was this:
The most common injury is falling from the horse, followed by being kicked, trampled, and bitten. About 3 out of 4 injuries are due to falling, broadly defined. A broad definition of falling often includes being crushed and being thrown from the horse, but when reported separately each of these mechanisms may be more common than being kicked.
Thanks Wikipedia!
I know I said I wanted to leave my comfort zone, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind. I thought it was understood that I'm never going to jump out of a perfectly good plane; I'm never going to dive into the ocean with a canister of oxygen on my back just to see the pretty fishes; and I'm never going on a safari where I can be eaten by wild animals.
I was starting to freak myself out, but then, I got a grip. After all, I wasn't going to a rodeo; I was going to a county park. If it were a dangerous activity, they wouldn't have horseback riding there. (Think of the liability issues!) And I knew Kip would keep me safe. He was the lifeguard who'd saved the most kids from drowning at Castaway Island, so, keeping an uncoordinated friend from falling off a horse would be easy for him. I'm glad I have a rational side, because if the wimpy, scaredy-cat side ever took over, I'd spend the rest of my life hiding under the covers. Seriously.
I had an appointment at five for a pedicure (so my toes would look pretty right before the horse trampled them), and I was getting ready to leave when Grace called.
"Hey Gracie, what's new?"
"Jamie, I just got off the phone with my friend at the Consulate, and you're not going to believe this. Your father has a pending visa application to come to the U.S.! It's been pending for over two years, but still, he has one."
" That's incredible! But, how is that possible? I thought only a U.S. citizen could petition on behalf of their relatives. Someone would've had to apply on his behalf…right?"
"Someone did, Jamie."
"Who was it?"
"His wife."
Chapter 28
I sat there, holding the phone . I didn't know what to say. I'd been so worried about my father's reaction to learning he had a daughter that I hadn't considered he might already have a family, one that was complete without me.
" Jamie, honey? Are you there?" Grace asked.
"Yeah, I'm here. Sorry, I was thin king."
"Well, it's a big surprise, but it's still good news, right?"
"Definitely, " I said. "It's excellent news."
"There's more. Your dad's wife lives in Miami. Her name is Ana Maria Suarez, I have her number. You could call her."
"Um, I'm not sure if that's a wise idea. I'd hate to break up my dad's marriage before I even got to talk to him."
"Good point. Why don't you think about it and, in the meantime, I'll send you her contact information. Okay?"
"Okay. Thanks so much, Grace!"
"Anything for you. Hey, if you're not busy next Saturday morning, do you want to volunteer with me at a food bank?"
"Sure, of course," I said. Grace was such a do-gooder.
"Great! We'll figure out the details next week. Have fun with Kip tomorrow, I want a full report, you hear?"
I laughed. "I'll call you from the emergency room."
"Such an optimist," Grace said.
"Just a realist."
After we hung up, I sat at my desk, lost