Each day after grammar school, we raced to the beach playground. We would fight over the three swings, and consequently learned to share. Our next swinging era was several years later when we discovered rock and roll. We learned to dance. I have finally slammed the door on the third swing era of my life-mood swings. I did it through denial.

I never knew what a mood swing was. I thought I was born inherently nasty, but I progressed to an advanced stage during middle age without admitting it. The thought of a "crisis" looming in my future never bothered me. Expectations of the dreaded "change" amounted to a few hot flashes and the end of PMS. By the way, PMS was not the debilitating condition it is today, requiring medications, supplemental vitamins, and a shrink. We just blew up like a tic once a month, stayed away from guns, and didn't go swimming. Not knowing the scientific and medical explanations of what ailed us was the key to living through it.

My niece disappeared for a few months. She still lived with us, but she declined to show her face at dinner, because she knew I needed to talk to her about her mail piling up on the table. She should have known better than to leave those two letters there, taking up all that room. The wind actually blew one of them onto the butter, which I had to throw out. I also didn't like the way she looked at me when I saw her last. So I dyed my hair flame red, big deal.