A gale force brought me there, to join the village.
It was an undeniable knowing, from the very depths of my soul. Its roots sinking deep into the earth, and grasping hold.
Each day I felt the heaviness of losing the girl that I had always wanted, but my love for the little boy grew as he continued to develop. I was so afraid that something would happen to him. What if I lost him too?
This may be the hardest thing I will ever write. I keep putting off writing it because when I think about it, I worry that I will re-open the wound that will never heal. It is one of those wounds that scar you for life. The scar tingles, and aches every time I see lilies growing in a garden, bows in hair, and ruffles on dresses. I have come to realize though, that wound IS healing…more and more every day. The reason for that healing is a beautiful little boy with ringlets in his toe head blonde hair and a contagious smile. He brought me back to life when I thought all was lost. He was the unexpected dawn that took me out of darkness.
Music was my way of self expression, gaining confidence, and feeling powerful. My family always encouraged me to have music in my life because they knew how much it meant to me. My family was very musical, so I have to say it's in my blood.
Walking on the dewy grass, the warm sun on our backs, we are looking for a spot to build a shelter. A flat grassy area looks promising. While discussing strategies, Rosy Boa wanders...and spots a track.
I am sure that you have experienced a moment in your life when you smelled something and it triggered an emotional response in your body. Perhaps it was the smell of a candle, or the freshly cut grass, the delicious aroma of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. What memory or feeling did that aroma trigger?
We all want to be heard. We all need to be heard. Sometimes the people we want to tell our story to, aren't able to hear it. This story is for you. It is for all of us.