Stories for my Sister

Grab yourself a cup of tea and settle down for a chat longer than usual.

Recently I finished reading this book. It was said that I might see myself in the story. Certainly I did,
but a different story. A story of a single mom and two daughters. The story came from the older daughter, but it was their story. And that is where my story is similar to this story, but then my story goes a different direction.

 https://elizabethduvivier.com/
Sometimes our stories can be told or written sad or they can be of happy times,
but to mix the two can be a challenge.  Elizabeth did both and I am still remembering this story.

Her book is definitely worth reading. Definitely check it out.

 

Where my story goes, well shall I tell you the struggles, the sad parts or do I tell you

the sugar coated pretty parts?

I could tell you about my mother being called "the stupid one" as a child.

I could tell you about my pregnant mother and I being deserted by my father when I was two.

I could tell you about abuse in the church for those I knew and
how that formed my spiritual beliefs.

I could tell you of learning that my father's family had a lot of sexual abuse stories

and my sister and I were so lucky not to have been a part of that.

I could tell you of difficult times in my life.

But I will tell you this!

As a child as I saw abuse around me I grew strong, I became a strong woman.

I know myself and I know how to take care of myself.

I learned to have an active fantasy life, dreaming dreams

of fairies and woodland creatures.

I learned to follow my dreams.
Growing up I emotionally supported my mom and I hope I
helped her realize she wasn't stupid.
Once I started babysitting I bought my own fabric and made my clothes.
One dream was to dance, though not accepted by my church;
I danced in my 30's. I dance in my stories.
Another dream was to go to design school and work with apparel.
In my 40's I did just that.
In my 50's I met my half siblings and learned even more how lucky
my sister and I were not to have the biological father in our lives.
During this time I learned to have a voice, speak for myself and
no one was going to take advantage of this strong woman.
Yes, I am getting older, I am getting stronger each day.
I speak truth.
As a 65 year old I picked up a camera and learned to listen and notice what I notice.
My husbands thinking was that it should be the man that takes the pictures,
but I listened to my heart.
I still know there are fairies out there and angels walking with me.
I walk on tiptoes with them.
I still imagine the dancing and can hear the music.
In my 70's I still notice what I notice,
I listen to my heart strings,
and I dance*.

Do you also notice what you notice?
Listen to your heart strings and dance?

Each of us has our own stories.
Sometimes our stories are the same, but most often they diverge into
our own unique story.
Pay attention to your story and allow it to make you a stronger person.
This story is for my sisters too. You know who you are more than I know you.

*Dance for me is figurative in nature, most often it is in my dreams and 

in the movement of my heart strings, or just a slight movement of my toe or hand.

Happy weekend, dear friends!

I am saying this early as I will be away on a small adventure,

an adventure where I plan on a dance or two.

Be back on Monday.