Reflections by Nano

My mom was born on the 5th of July 1969. She died at age 33, on the 12th of June 2003. I’m turning 33 this year...it definitely feels like a significant milestone of sorts.  I’m in awe when I think about the life my mom had lived at this young age; a divorced single mother of two daughters who’d worked hard and pushed against so many odds to give her children a better shot at life than she had had. My mom was a pioneer, she was courageous, and held her own in a man’s world (my sister calls her "a feminist who was ahead of her time" ) but what I remember most is her kindness and how her life benefited and made an impact on so many people's lives, especially her family. I miss her so much my heart aches. Yes, I’ve healed and made peace with her departure from this world, but the reality of her absence in my life will always sting. Most of the time I have happy thoughts and memories of her. But around certain times of the year like Mother’s Day, Christmas, significant celebr...

For the longest time I’ve had the desire to write my life story. Putting my feelings and thoughts on paper has always been a saving grace for me, a therapy of sorts, a healing balm for the soul.  When I feel overwhelmed, lost, and confused, I vomit that internal mess onto my journal (or laptop) and walk away somewhat free and purged of the pain. So, inevitably, writing became second nature to me growing up. The life-giving power of words fascinated me. I enjoyed reading and escaping into imagined worlds where nothing was impossible. There, I could become anyone and anything. I could be royalty, I could be unbroken, I could be free, I could be me. Stories can birth hope in us, stories can restore our souls, stories can awaken dead dreams and sleeping giants within us. Stories are life. There’s a story behind creation, there’s a story behind every invention, there’s a story behind everything, and our lives are stories waiting to be told. When I tell my story of healing and redemption...