Oct. 2022 It started as an invitation. To know one of my children better. To listen. To be present in ways I wasn’t in years past. I knew I had made mistakes. There was always an ache, a longing for things to be different, things I couldn’t change. So I crafted a tidy life around it, throwing up buffers when the failures would sneak into my consciousness. There’s nothing I can do about it now, I would tell myself. Sure, I wish things were different, but they weren’t and I couldn’t go back in time to change anything. I’d apologized, I thought. Sincerely apologized. I truly felt sorry for so many things. But, in self protection, I hadn’t ventured too deep into the hurts. The events where I wasn’t the victim, but the perpetrator, though I never thought of myself as that. But, it’s true.
I have followed your writings for some time now and am always so drawn into that world you describe so beautifully....even with the pain, the sorrow, the hope, the rejoicing, all so eloquently done. Continue using this wonderful gift that has been given to you!
I have followed your writings for some time now and am always so drawn into that world you describe so beautifully....even with the pain, the sorrow, the hope, the rejoicing, all so eloquently done. Continue using this wonderful gift that has been given to you!
Excellent, engaging, thoughtful work. Well done! ✍️👏
Thank you!