When I was young I never really felt part of what was going on. The best I can describe it is as if I was an observor and not a participant. I wasn't the kid that went around with a cute smile on my face. I was shy, serious, and always observing life. I always knew and felt that something was wrong with me. Something was missing in me. Other people had "something". I didn't.
At age 32 that all changed. I gave birth to my first child, a beautiful daughter named Danielle. At 35 I gave birth to my second daughter, also beautiful, named Stefanie. Life became more colorful, active, and whizzed rapidly past my head. I was finally part of life. I belonged to someone. The hole in my heart that was created when my mother died was finally filled with little people needing me. This is what I had been waiting for. So many years of not knowing where I belonged were finally over.
Now the girls are past the age of being taken to school. No one runs to greet me when I come home from work. No one calls me at 3pm when they used to come home from school and call just to check in. And you know what? That's ok. Life is different again and I am ok with it. I have time to play on the computer, browse in stores, and I don't have to lift anyone up to sit in the shopping cart at Target. And it is ok. I am ok.
This week in books 5/26/17
12 hours ago