Stories of the Lost and Found

“Village Kids” Originally Posted May 8th, 2022 • • • Mother’s Day. A single, sole date of the year on which mothers are honored by their children in many of ways: Ditch daises picked by the little blond mini-me in her best dress, no shoes, and little pigtails blowing in the breeze as she runs yelling, “MOMMY! MOMMY! I picked you a flower.” Candy chosen with care - ensuring all her favorites are there. Don’t forget the almond joys. Handmade construction paper cards with painted handprints titled “I love you, Mom!” Family get togethers with a plethora of food, laughter, story telling, and memories. Breakfast-in-Bed made by the little tiny humans, hair still stuck up from waking up out of bed without bothering to brush their teeth - or their cowlick. It is a beautiful thing to witness - a family. A real one. An unbroken one. A bond like no other. It is also a feeling I have craved since before a time I can recall memories. It is the reason for so many years I have woken up angry, and bitt...

There are often times I get praised for the way I handle life's back-to-back to back hits and while my answer tends to throw people off with my honesty- and transparency- it's genuinely the truth: I'm accustomed to it- and I have been my entire life. I am accustomed to the chaos, and what comes with it. I am accustomed to the loneliness of losing, and having to heal. I am accustomed to being broken, and having to pick up the pieces to recreate myself as a mosaic. I am accustomed to heartache, the grief, the defeat, the pain, the stress, and having to mask it in order to succeed. What I was not accustomed to, or ever thought I'd have to learn, is learning to love again after losing. Learning to trust, not to simply fill a void and create a short-term bond. Learning that I am worthy, even when I feel as if I am not. And learning that in order to love again? You need to understand that not everyone will understand. I had a co-worker say something to me this last week: “You...