The Journey Continues...

It was said by those who should have known, that she was a sweet little girl when she was but a young thing, full of laughter, life and all that was good.  She certainly can’t remember back that far, but she knows that laughter has always been a big part of her life.

From the time her developmental age would begin, she somehow knew she didn’t have a personality that could be pin-pointed, no type of friend-circle that she would call home; although she seemed to fit-in most anywhere.  She would carry a determination and confidence that was seemingly strong and sure; but on the inside she would remain an enigma, even to herself. Her body and its shape of little girl chubby would follow her through grade school; causing personal inhibitions she would struggle to overcome.

Time would move on and she would still remain the funny girl but with a fast developing, salty mouth. She would sprinkle her stories with salt and vinegar to re-direct sadness or any other attention that felt negative or false. She was smarter than she achieved, and academics and the results of, were mediocre at best. Her body would begin to change, to have shape, and she would visually begin to like herself along with the boys who had begun to notice her.

High school would be a combination of coming into herself, and into life. Her confidence would continue to build and she learned to express herself with not only the spoken word, but with the written word. She would become the editor of the school newspaper, writing/righting the wrongs with words for everyone. She would join a school club, Future Business Leaders of America, get a job and a paycheck, and quickly learn, that money makes the world go ‘round.

Secondary education did not interest her, she would go to work, and continue to figure life out. She would get married three short years later; not to the right man, but to a necessary man, the man who would give her life’s best gifts of all: her children.

She would be married, divorced and single again for the sum of twenty-three years; the exact age she was when she would have her first child. The amount of life she would experience and learn all those years would be tremendous. Some of those years kind, some not, but all exactly as they should have been.

The circle of life would repeat itself, she would marry the real love of her life, gain some beautiful people as her bonus family, her own children would become amazing adults, and life was better than she’d dreamed. Her voice would find paper again; sharing her stories and her life, in hopes that she would touch someone along the way. She’s taken the roads with the most resistance; regrets few, do-over’s none.  

By the time you’re reading this, she will be fifty-one years and two days old. She will be so proud to have made it this far, and ready for the rest. Happy day of birth to her.