I attended the funeral of a very dear friend's grandfather recently. He was 85 years old and he and his wife had just celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. Their love affair lasted longer than most people ever get to experience in their lifetime. They were each other's soul mate and the one great love of each other's lives. He was a wonderful man.

I can't help but wonder what will be said about me when my time comes. Will I have found the one great love of my life? I truly loved Steve and wonder if I will ever love someone as much as I loved him. Will someone consider me the great love of his life? Will I be remembered as a good person? Will I have children and grandchildren who could look back on my life and say that I was a role model for them? Will I be remembered as showing my family how to love unconditionally and being able to teach them that they can do anything that they set their minds to? Will I be able to pass on the values that my parents and grandparents instilled in me?

In 60 years, I will be close to 90 years old if I am still alive. Although realistically that is a lifetime from now, I have often envisioned how I would be eulogized. Would they say, "She lived an unfulfilled life and never had children of her own," or "She was lucky in life but not in love," or "She leaves behind her four cats and two dogs who she adored as if they were her children."

I'm in love. I don't know how it happened but it did.

OK, he's on the short side and a bit small but he's the most amazing thing in the whole wide world. I became an aunt today and I'm totally head over heels. He's the most beautiful baby boy I have ever seen and I swear it's not just because he's my nephew.

It's weird. I truly loved my niece and nephew, who were Steve's sister's children, and spent a great deal of time with them. But this is different. I think there is a different feeling when it's your own sibling's children.

The look on my brother's face as he held his son melted my heart. He is a changed man. As I look at my nephew, I am filled with happiness and love.

I'm looking forward to teaching him new things and spending as much time with him as I can. My life has just changed and it's for something wonderful. I'm so happy my family has something to be happy about, and someone else to focus on and worry about.

My nephew's birth has made the end of 2007 an amazing time for the Rosenthal family. I can't stop smiling.

I was out with my friends the other night and I got a text from Shawn. It was after midnight and he was letting me know he was back from his trip. He wanted to know if I was out. My motto is always "the more the merrier" so I texted him the address of where we were and told him to come meet us.

I was talking to a very cute guy and realized that I really didn't want Shawn to come. I hadn't spoken to his since our "date" and didn't think the time of his text was really that respectful. I called him and told him she should catch up another time — I said my friends were leaving and I had to be up early — both of which were true.

He asked me to stay and said he was only around the corner. I was annoyed but agreed to wait. We had a drink at the bar and I was a bit aloof. He mentioned he got back from his trip two days before. I probably rolled my eyes and told him that I really didn't think it was appropriate to call me so late when he had two days to make plans. We live in a technologically advanced era — phones and e-mail both work on business trips.

I didn't think I was being unreasonable. I told him I had to head home. I was cranky in the cab and a bit over it, so I was completely honest. I explained that I wasn't expecting miracles from anyone, but that the comment he made about marriage and family was very candid.

I knew that we had only gone out once but I had to be honest as well. I told him that I wasted over six years with someone who didn't want the same things I did. I didn't want to waste any more time with someone now who doesn't share my desire to have a family.

It's always hard deciding which family to spend each holiday with. Thanksgiving is not so big in my family, since we focus more on the Jewish holidays. Who would have thought that less than a year later so much would change?

My sister-in-law, Shari, is due with her first child any day now. Rather than have her sit in traffic and be far from the hospital, I offered to host Thanksgiving at my apartment. I've never really cooked for my family, although it's one of my passions, so I cooked for two days straight and made a huge dinner.

It was a small group — just my parents, me, my brother and sister-in-law and my grandfather and his girlfriend. It was cozy, intimate, and exactly what I needed after making it through my second wedding anniversary only a few days prior. I made my family proud and it made me realize how very lucky I am to have such a supportive and loving family.

After a few stressful weeks and a bit of self-pity, I am ready to continue moving forward. Over dessert, my family made an executive decision that Thanksgiving would take place in my home every year. A new tradition was started and it made me feel wonderful. It was a tradition that was formed after my split from Steve. It was a tradition that I will never have to look back on as another event that we shared together. It was just what I needed.

I had the worst fight with my parents on the way home from Newport last weekend. I was exhausted from barely any sleep, and mentally drained from my third wedding of the summer. We hit horrible traffic and all I wanted was to get home and get into my bed!

It started when my mom offered to drop my dad off before she drove into the city to take me home. I was very annoyed, because that would prolong our trip for at least another hour. I told them to just take me to the train, since it would get me home faster.

Mom snapped at me that I’m moody and everything doesn't have to be my way all of the time. I snapped back that I had every reason to be moody as I just had to sit through the third wedding of the summer, watching all of my friends with their significant others. As happy as I am for them, I think it's only natural for me to indulge in a bit of self pity now and again.

I think what really happened was that — just for a second — my parents forgot that I am still going through a divorce. As much compassion as they feel for me, they don’t have any clue what I go through, especially when I watch all of my friends walking down the aisle.

Just because I don't talk about it that often, that I try to focus on the positives, doesn’t mean I don't think about my future. I was supposed to be one of the happily-ever-afters! It also doesn't help that every time I meet someone else, Steve appears in my dreams.

By the time we got home, I’d made up with my parents, and all was fine. In the end, I just needed to get home and unwind with a hot shower, my own bed and a dose of Ambien!

I just started a new job... yes, the one I interviewed for five times! Aside from the new job jitters, I was excited to be starting fresh at a company that doesn't know who Steve is, doesn't know who Michelle Newman is and doesn't know the history of the past 6 1⁄2 years of my life. I'm now the mistress of my own destiny and the creator of my past. It's kind of like a guilty pleasure and it's quite empowering and liberating.

Now, since starting a family is no longer in the picture at this point in time, my career is my number one priority. I left an uninspiring job and an unfulfilling marriage. I've been given a second chance and hope that this is the start of something wonderful. But as much as having a clean slate is all I want right now, it's difficult pretending the past 6 1⁄2 years didn't happen. It's normal to talk to work people about family, especially when you sit on an open trading desk and know more about your coworkers than you normally would by sitting in an office by yourself.

I called my brother Eric and asked him for his Social Security number. He asked what I needed it for and I said, "well, do you want to be my beneficiary or not?" He laughed and said "I forgot...Steve's out and I'm back in!" Eric and I were always each other's beneficiaries and he knows that I have created a pretty decent portfolio. I received an e-mail from my office manager asking for my "In Case of Emergency" contact. Steve, my ex, had been mine and I thought that he would always be my "person." I responded with my mother's information, swallowed the lump in my throat and hit "send." At least I know that my new "person" will never leave me.

A couple of weeks ago it was my 29th birthday. My cousin called to wish me a happy 30th as a joke and I wanted to crawl back into bed. This was definitely a day I was hoping would quickly come and go, since it was my first birthday alone in years. Steve sent me a text message and I got very choked up. I knew he would since his birthday was two weeks ago and I sent him a b-day message. I wasn't sure of the protocol when you are basically divorced yet amicable.

I didn't feel like going to my freelance job and didn't feel like answering my phone when my friends called me. My parents called to tell me what time they were picking me up for dinner and I told them not to bother. I just wanted to make the day disappear. I got the guilt trip from my mother saying that my birthday was an important day to for them to celebrate and that they are meeting me at the restaurant at 7:30 whether I like it or not. She even had my father call me to make sure I would be there. I succumbed to their request, as long as they promised no singing with dessert.

Did I mention the fact that it started to torrentially downpour on my way home and I had no umbrella and only a $100 bill in my wallet? Do you know what it's like to get a cab during rush hour in Manhattan, in the rain with no smaller denominations of money? I finally found a cab that was willing to take me after the first four drove away when I was honest and told them about my dilemma before they started the meter. I finally got home, soaking wet and rushed to get ready to meet my family.

So, my family is going away for the weekend in August with my brother and sister-in-law and her family. My parents booked their room and asked me to go with them. Actually, it was more like a Jewish guilt trip.

“We always spent a weekend every summer with your in-laws, so we have to do the same for your brother.” The catch? I would be sharing their room since they reserved a larger room with a sleeper sofa.

I’m 28-years-old, divorced and not dating anyone... I didn’t think things could get any worse until my mother said, “…and you’ll share a room with your father and me.”

Can we just say, I’m a pathetic loser? I thanked them for their offer and bailed out gracefully. I have three weddings this summer and I’m thinking of going to them even if it means going solo.

But can you imagine if I did decide to stay with my parents? “Uh, sorry mom and dad if I kept you up all night. That one-night stand I had last night was a rock star!”

Aside from the night prior to my wedding when I knocked on my parents’ door at 1 a.m. to climb into bed with them (doesn’t every Jewish girl do that?), I haven’t slept in a bed with my parents since I was a little girl. And then, it was only because I thought there were monsters under the bed.

There are just some things that I can’t do anymore—sharing a room with my parents for the weekend is at the top of my list.

My name truly defines me. I’ve just always been Michelle Rosenthal.

Aside from the wedding invitations addressed to “Mr. & Mrs. Steve XXXX”, my friends never changed my maiden name in their phones or on their e-mail messages or introduced me using my married name.

I was always in the “scene” and the social leader of my group. I picked the places we went, had all of the connections to avoid waiting in lines and bartended at some of the most fun bars in New York City and Westchester County. I have a big group of friends.

Somehow my parents believed me when I said I was going out for “coffee” when I began bartending my senior year of high school! I have a brother that was popular, especially with my friends, and an enviable contact list.

I come from a close-knit family. My last name ends with my brother, unless he has a son. I’ve always been Michelle Rosenthal and was against changing my name. But when I got married, changing my name was important to Steve. Of course I felt as if someone were asking for my unborn child when he asked when I was going to change my name already.

I can’t explain the connection I feel to my last name but it’s just part of who I am. I’ve built my reputation using my name: I completed my education with my name; I’ve succeeded in my career using my name. Hello? I've accomplished most of the memorable things in my life using my name!

I’m proud of who I am and all that I’ve done. For me, taking my husband’s name made me feel like I was losing a part of that. The day Steve moved out, I changed everything back.

I called my friend and my Caller ID popped up as “Rosenthal”. “You don’t waste any time, do you?” she said. Next step was the Dept. of Motor Vehicles and changing all of my credit cards.

I feel like a human “want ad.” I’m my mother’s new project, entitled, “Jewish Mother Seeks Mate For Recently Separated Daughter.”

She’s been showing my picture to anyone who may know any single men, and let me tell you, the word on the street is that she’s asking! But, the photo she’s been showing is no ordinary picture.

She called me this morning to tell me she has no good recent pictures of me alone and that the ones she has are either pictures with Steve, my ex, or photos where I’ve straightened my hair which, as she told me, “makes my head look flat.”

In order to solve this dilemma, my mother found a picture that she truly loves from my wedding. She took matters into her own hands by cutting Steve out from the photo. Did I mention the fact that I’m wearing a tiara? In the typical Jewish mother style, she tells people I was a bridesmaid in someone’s wedding.

I can hear it now: “Did you see how beautiful my daughter looks? She was recently a bridesmaid!” But, of course, I would actually wear a tiara to someone else’s wedding to compliment the big white dress I was wearing! My mother assured me that the photo is from my bust upwards so no one can see what I’m actually wearing.

“Well what you want from me?” she says. “It’s the only one I love of you and everyone at Hadassah wanted to see what you look like…and I have the theater group today.”

I asked my mother if my wedding photographer would throw in a photo shoot, since I only received my album three months ago and we spent a ridiculous amount of money on it. At least I can find humor in these things.