when i met with yusha this last time, he looked me in the eye and said, she would have liked you. she would have liked that you’re doing this. 

i tabled that in my head. it’s an endorsement that will take time to process. sometimes i don’t even like that i’m doing this. i can’t imagine how jackie could.

i’ve been doing whatever you want to call my whole jackie thing for the last 17 years. that’s not an exaggeration. it’s been that slow of a burn.

after all that time, i’m pretty certain i know what i’m doing and i’m pretty certain i’m right. i’m pretty certain she was a feminist figure who, through her sense of adventure, quietly pushed the limits of what it was acceptable for nice women to do.

but there’s still just enough doubt lingering there to necessitate the word “pretty,” and that little “pretty” goes a long way in rendering all my certainty null.

if the jackie tapes are going to give me anything, it is the confirmation that she was, in fact, the woman i have come to know. the woman i have written about.

caroline kennedy told diane sawyer that the main lesson her mother would have wanted people to draw from her story was that life is an adventure, always. when she said this- thus, giving credence to everything i’ve ever written on a hunch- i felt a wave of the cockiness that must’ve compelled babe ruth to call his shot.

the “pretty” is dead. i know i’m right. someday, even if it’s a day still 17 years away, just you wait. i am going to knock one out of the park.

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