Boxes to the left and right of me, I feel better. I feel better knowing there are new stories that will come from unpacking my boxes, emptying my emotions, my feelings, unveiling the young woman who stopped dreaming after the curtains were prematurely closed on her in her youth.
Fast forward to 2017, death came to destroy the possibility of what that Spirit was and is; too bad, a loss was never an experience I struggled with, an experience I was never afraid. From the moment I realized evil people existed, I made peace with “for dust you are and to dust you will return.” Genesis 3:19
A loss couldn’t cripple me; however, I was gripped by love, the overwhelming feeling of love, the knowing I touched a "peace" from God; I knew what I had was unique in my children. I knew my children were given to me to move and be in the presence of God. In many ways, I felt like the Virgin Mary, without the Virgin designate. I am a mother to children who acquired a special something.
I took the time to sit still, stare, and just listen. I watched, prayed and cried. When I held my children for the first time, it confirmed God is real. They had personality even before they could say, Momma. They had character even before they could walk. I was the wisdom to the knowledge they already possessed.
Boxes to the left and right of me, I feel better. I feel better knowing there are new stories to tell that will come from unpacking my boxes. New spaces with old memories, new areas filled with transferred love, peace from God.