Dear Abby

Today marks 5 months since the day Kevin left us.  The top question asked is: (head tilt) "How are you?"  The 2nd top question asked is: "Are you going to write the blog anymore?"

Honestly, the blog to me served a purpose - to keep friends updated on Kevin’s situation and to spare me the pain of having to repeat the details over and over.  But it became much more than that for me.  I discovered that writing about something that was breaking my heart, was actually helping to heal it. I’d love to keep writing - I just don’t know what I’d write about.  But a thought occurred to me last week . . . .

My parents thought ahead when they named me “Abby Cannon.”  That name provided some of the best campaign slogans in my running for office years.  There was the successful: “For a year with a BIG  BANG - Vote Abby CANNON” (6th grade school President - ka-boom) And the not so successful: “I just flew in from the ABBY” (cheerleader tryouts dressed as a flying nun) Although that one wasn’t the campaign slogan nearly as much as my inability to turn a straight cartwheel.  But the best one? “Dear Abby, Who should I vote for 8th grade Historian?  Signed, Uncertain.  Dear Uncertain, Abby Cannon of course!”  That one was sheer genius.  I have endearing memories of “Dear Abby” for several reasons.  On the night Kevin proposed to me he sang me John Prine’s song “Dear Abby” with his guitar.

“Dear Abby, Dear Abby . .

You won’t believe this

But my stomach makes noises whenever I kiss

My girlfriend tells me it’s all in my head

But my stomach tells me to write you instead

Signed Noise-maker

Noise-maker, Noise-maker

You have no complaint

You are what you are, and you ain’t what you ain’t

So listen up Buster, and listen up good

Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood”

Total classic.  He sang 3-4 verses and then wrote his own lyrics for the finale.  I wasn’t sure if I was saying yes to a rock star or a cowboy.  

SO. . this all has a purpose . . . Post a comment or send me an email (abbyhegewald@gmail.com)addressed to Dear Abby with a question that you would like answered about what life is like for the Hegewalds without Kevin. This will give me something to write about, as well as fulfilling a secret fantasy of writing an advice column. (not really) So, here’s your chance to ask that question you haven’t dared ask.  Just remember, there are no stupid questions.  Only stupid answers.  

Signed, abby