“Oh, Stephanie. It could always be worse!” I can be – I know it is hard to imagine – the worst of worst patients, a whining, complaining ninny.
An observer would have noted the moment of instantaneous recognition between the two of us. Between the mutual tears, he told me a story of my father I had not heard before..
With the righteousness of a workday’s exhaustion, my mind ran through litanies of gratitude to the universe for anything and everything.
“You. You are light…I am, oddly now, dark..”
February 3, 2021 If I typed the word ‘um’ a thousand times, would that help my writer’s mind? Would it… Read more A Woman’s Diary, “Orchids”
December 25, 2020 May your days be filled with peace, merriment and lots of love! Merry Christmas! Love…with a kiss,… Read more Merry Christmas!
I was so wrong. I regret my lack of understanding and effort in beginning on the ‘open roads’. They were my roads. And yes, others were on the same road. They too began where I began, travelling, lookinf for their one road. All of our roads began as one.
As we met the lake, the sky softened from clear blue to an enveloping grey in the haloed light of the setting sun.
I have a survivor story to share with you, but I have not really done so with a full head of steam. Any less an effort is not my best. I am absolutely scared to evolve…of breaking the thread between the past and the now. Yet, I must.
As I talked, I still felt a bit like the observer, documenting myself and my actions while reminding myself to speak not as a victim but as a proud woman and graceful lady.