It was looking like a rained-out University of Wisconsin River Falls Women’s Soccer Game at St. Kate’s college in St. Paul, MN. on September 6, 2025.  The weather reports were “iffy”, but we all know that weather people are wrong more than they are correct, or so it seems sometimes.  It’s easier to deny the possibility and blame the weather people than accept responsibility and understand that the game might not happen.

And so, we went to the game.  We love seeing Heather and Jay who are so busy working and shuffling college activities between Stout and River Falls that we don’t see them often. This gives us an opportunity to see them and watch whatever game playing time Leah gets.  She loves the game and has made a real soccer family and home at River Falls.  Grandparents love to see everyone doing well, right?

And still, I’ve struggled with the cloud of grief related to Bridgette’s death.  I’ve learned how awkward and sometimes downright unkind people can be with their own reaction to someone else’s grief.  Bridgette’s death means everything to us and nothing to everyone else.  My mind, emotions, and physical responses are struggling to reconcile the completely opposite reactions I anticipated versus what we have experienced.  Scott often speaks the phrase he affectionately coined for us about this and other situations, “Me and You Boo Boo.”  We go about our daily activities as if nothing has happened.  No one knows.  And no one cares much except us. 

There were a few sprinkles that became heavier at Leah’s game, with some threats of lightning and thunder.   We all headed to our cars to see if we could wait it out.  When the rain subsided, we grabbed our umbrellas and rain gear to head back to the soccer field.  Play resumed and so did heavier rain with background lightning and thunder which was deemed to be unsafe to continue.  This time we decided to call it a day and look for someplace to have a bite to eat.  It was a late lunch and early dinner for timing.

We decided to go to the Nook Restaurant for a Juicy Lucy burger that has lived for MANY years in St. Paul neighborhood across from street from Cretin-Durham Hall High School This was an occasional eating treat place when I owned and operated the EmbroidMe Franchise store on Ford Parkway in St. Paul, MN.  It brought back all sorts of memories.  Some good.  Some hard.  Some Funny.  Some melancholy. 

I closed the doors on my store February 2010.  The Franchise and Landlord wanted me to continue but the financial challenges of the Recession coinciding with my lease expiring gave me an opportunity to reassess and decide it was best not to continue that journey.  It had been a long, tough, road that I had a love/hate relationship with.  I had no vacation in almost 5 years.  Zero time off.  Zip!  Nadda! None!  Scott “earned” a couple winter snowmobiling trips to Montana with his son.  How could I object when he was also supportive with his full time job in addition to his evening and weekend help in my store.  Many business owners will tell you owning a business can be a 24/7 lifestyle. I was ambitious.  I was determined.  I was in the top ten internationally for franchise growth in 2009.  I succeeded in networking and becoming accepted in the tightly connected community.  We had lots of work keeping us busy.  Yet the lack of profit due to intense competition did not make it attractive enough to renew the lease and continue.

In the meantime, Scott was supportive of the decision to make different life choices.  He was traveling a lot with his job, and I desperately needed a respite.  We made travel plans, but my body didn’t cooperate.  It was depleted.  Each time I tried to go on a business trip with him, I got sick, very sick. Each time I was stuck in a hotel room sick, very sick.  Some vacation, eh?  (That’s for my Canadian friends)

And then, my body really gave in to a potentially life-threatening condition.  Something that needed immediate attention.  Something that was very uncertain.   Something that was very private and that I rarely, rarely share even today, so I politely request you refrain from asking. Diagnostics and attention to my health took many months, with much uncertainty, but fortunately with good results and outcome.  My long-time career in health care administration before my EmbroidMe store paid dividends in 2^nd opinions.  I smile with much gratitude!

We recognized how much our lives have changed since 2010 as Scott and I found a table towards the back of the always busy, crowed Nook restaurant. We were having some chatter about what I do not recollect.  It often includes something about our kids, this year’s complicated family dynamics, and the impact on us trying to process the joy of granddaughter Anna’s fall wedding and our unaddressed ongoing grief. 

Our food arrived and was as delightfully delicious as we remembered.  It’s still a yummy burger and french fries washed down with a glass of merlot.  Mmmm Mmmmm. Good! The wait staff was pleasant, and our tummies were full. 

And then it happened…….Our server approached our table and said something surprising.  She said she sensed that something was troubling me/us and that she wanted to acknowledge that with a tradition she has.  When she wants to recognize her instincts, she gives that person a lucky $2.00 bill.  She then handed me a very crisp new $2.00 bill with all sorts of good wishes. 

How could this be?  How could this complete stranger have such intuition to identify some emotional need?  You’ve heard it from me before, and now I’ll say it again.  It was nothing short of a “God Wink.”  Thank you, Two-Dollar Angel!  Your $2.00 kindness resides in a flap in my cell phone case as a constant daily reminder of your sensitive perception and kind-heartedness.  Your gesture will not be forgotten, and I always look for ways to pay something forward.  I will hang on to the Angel’s $2.00 bill as my almost constant reminder of her thoughtfulness.