Ok, so recently I had an epiphany (sp?). In the BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) group that I'm a part of, one of the staple requirements of the group are those hugemongous nametags we have to wear. This year, a new little feature was on mine: a little space for me to write in my emergency contact.
This doesn't seem like a big deal, but alas, a thought came to me: my emergency contact is STILL Mr. Richard D. Thornhill. Everybody knows that I sure do love me dad, but, well, this was just depressing.
Will my ICE contact always be my parents? If I get hit by a Houston Metro Bus and must be scraped off of the pavement on Westheimer, will they have to call my mommy? Ugh! There have been rays of hope in the recent past - this past May, I was filling out a card for something, and for the first time in my life, I had an emergency contact that I could put down other than my parents. This little detail may sound completely lame, but it was a defining moment - to know that there was actually someone out there who cared about me enough to identify my body in the morgue, pick me up from jail after some scandalous treachery, or visit me at the hospital after a freak maming by circus clowns. Isn't it wonderful?
Unfortunately, me being the relational idiot that I can't help but be, I lost the only non-parental ICE I ever had. Dad's back - durable power of attorney and all. (sigh) All of us who are single - we may be really enjoying this season of our lives.....who knows. For many of us, it is a time to discover who we are and what we want. But there comes a point when we have to ask ourselves, "What about our ICE?" (Insert heavy breathing cheesy rapper sounds here.)
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