Suzanne Schaffer

My dad was a victim of divorce. In the early 1950's as a young teen his parents separated and he was sent off to boarding school to avoid the shuffling between homes. He was left to grieve the loss of his family on his own. He spent several years adjusting to this life but still felt something was missing. During his senior year of high school, at eighteen years old, he sat outside one dark night on the lawn of Wilbraham Academy in Massachusetts. He took in the stars as if for the first time, thousands visible to the naked eye left him feeling small in the vastness. "What is the point of all this?" he asked into the night. "Someday you'll understand," a voice replied. The experience filled him with wonder. Who spoke to him as if right next to him while he was sitting alone in the field? One evening many years later, now married and with a family of his own, he took out his Bible as he'd gotten into the habit of doing since finding faith in God and ...

I admit, I've never been a trendy girl. Getting dressed has never been a favorite task. I'm happy in a tee shirt and jeans. Sweat pants that move with my every breath make me feel cozy. The 90's were a dream with the cotton knit matching pants and tops for one price. They even had their own bling so accessorizing didn't have to happen. Along came my daughter, the fashionista.  "Mom, get a different shirt," is now a common phrase in our home. She's generally right, one change makes all the difference. I go from being presentable to being dressed. Because what we put on says something about us whether we admit it or not.  I am a people-watcher. It's my thing. I'm also a conversation-listener but that is another post for another day. When I watch I notice everything from hair to clothing decisions to shoes. I've wondered why the mullet is still alive in Pennsylvania. Pondered why pajama pants are worn in public. Debated with my friends o...