Let me be clear from the start: I don’t win things. Consequently, when I buy a raffle ticket I do so in an effort to support the cause, not because I expect my name to be drawn. I don’t even harbor a subtle hope. Quite frankly, I hardly see the need for my contact information. So, you might imagine my surprise when I received a phone call that I had won the grand raffle prize. I had attended the annual Scandinavian Food Fair at The First English Lutheran Church in Ortonville. This annual celebration has been going on for nearly forty years. The event includes Norwegian music, crafts, arts, traditional Scandinavian baked goods, a lefse demonstration room, and a luncheon that could grace the cover of any culinary magazine. Hundreds of people attended. Hundreds of people bought a raffle ticket for the mouthwatering prize: a four-foot high, traditional Norwegian wedding cake.

For many years I struggled to face a deep truth: my long-term marriage needed to end. I have prided myself on my ability to recycle and repair almost anything. Growing up in poverty, I learned how to reuse other people’s castoffs, whether that was clothing, furniture or even old cars. Over my lifetime this ability has been very valuable. I have redesigned draperies from estate sales, repainted old lamps with chipped plaster, and restrung broken necklaces. In addition, I have taken pride in repairing any relationship with frayed or tattered edges. Over the last five years I applied all these skills to our marriage: I tried to redesign it, mend the holes with a needle and thread, and restring our good memories. I must admit, this required all of my know-how and a significant amount of energy. On a very deep level I fought against my inner knowing: our marriage was simply not repairable.