Friday, April 18, 2014
Kari is one of my oldest friends from high school.
She's the friend who I used to share The Corner Booth with at all hours of the day and night, writing on napkins and talking about anything and everything. We did a lot of growing up and learning who we were in those years, and although it became a less common meetup in the college and post-college years, we kept it going as much as possible up until the time I left southeast Michigan for Indiana (a whole 10 years ago).
There was a time, close to a decade ago now, that Kari and her husband seriously mulled the idea of
following Suzi and I to Indiana and they even had made a move on a house not too far from where we live, south of Indy. But that wasn't meant to be, and they've stayed up in our hometown of St. Clair Shores, Michigan and are thriving there as well as you possibly can.
Looking back, Kari is one of the best writers I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and calling a friend. She taught me a lot about myself through writing, and back in those days when there was more creative writing and poetry than journalism, it was always refreshing to have a good friend and fellow writer like Kari in my corner.
And of course, she kept up that beautiful writing by penning a poem for my engagement newspaper to Suzi back in 2003, and had a beautiful reading at our wedding. Our friendship has evolved to mostly one online through Facebook updates thanks to the long distance, but we do our best to keep in touch as much as possible.
Which is why I asked Kari to write something that I could post here on The D-Corner Booth, and as it turns out it has a particular diabetes connection... So, please enjoy what my friend Kari has written below!
A Guest-Post by Kari Navarra Woycik
As we get older, not old - just older, our body changes. This isn't shocking information. What is shocking is the moment we realize it. For most folks, it's a casual discovery; a stiff back, a grey hair. For others, it's a seemingly paralyzing, anxiety-ridden event. And some, (read: me) get both.
My husband located my first white hair in the middle of a contraction while in labor with our oldest child. I wretched my back one idle Wednesday and spent the next two days wishing I owned a cane. After a friend's wedding, and two glasses of wine, I needed four days to recover. Not from drinking, but from staying up too late. While reading a comic book with my son, I pulled the book further away from my face so I could see it. (I still blame the bad font on this one). In detail I described the pain in my ankle to my doctor. It's arthritis.
All of them just moments, little almost, laughable, moments.