Six years later, as I look back, things look totally different than they did that dreadful day, and the 8,735 days before that. From the ashes, I can now see beauty. Though seeing the beauty in myself can be a struggle some days, the beauty surrounding me is plainly evident. A writer I am not; never have been, probably never will be. But something deep inside me pushes me to write. While sometimes I’m not sure what to write, the words, my story, find a way to push, to fight their way out. As I look around at the miracles surrounding me and the amazing people close to me, I realize once again how very blessed I am, but there was a time not so very long ago I wasn’t sure I could survive. 6 short years after losing my dad, 4 short months after losing my mom, 6 short weeks after surgery, my best friend, the father of my children, and my husband of 24 years walked out.
Some of us choose to be victims; and some of us choose to live in victory. Me, I am trying to figure it all out. What I do know is this, always be kind. We don’t know the battle someone is in. It has been 6 years since my divorce, and every day is a learning and growing process. Some of those lessons are learned quickly, and others are continuous. I have been blessed beyond measure with friends and family who love me unconditionally and have helped me walk out. My hope is to encourage others who are walking their journey and help them know they are not alone in their battle.