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BULLSHIT

Several people back in Tennessee have asked to read the story. It’s a very personal story, but after my friend told me she was approached by two women at her bridge club who wanted her to thank me for sharing, I decided to put it here. The theme was Hope for The Holidays. Here’s my story –

Tell your story.

Our lives are a puzzle - made of so many different, odd shaped pieces. Those weird ones with the sharp angles, dark red or deep blue, that look more like someone else's bad dream than a piece of your puzzle.

Searching

My parents both had their own demons to deal with while raising four kids. I was always a daddy's girl and it took me thirty years to understand a lot of things, but I think I found the answers I needed. In my earlier blog, I shared some of my best memories. I touched on... Continue Reading →

Uncle Wilkensack

When I was little, I had an imaginary friend, his name was Uncle Wilkensack. Actually, I had twenty one imaginary friends because Uncle Wilkensack had a wife, they had seventeen kids and they had two pet alligators. I can still remember the first time I met them. I was sick with a high fever, lying... Continue Reading →

Survivors

How many times have you seen a teenage kid with tattoos and black circles under their eyes and jump to the conclusion that they are little trouble makers in the making?

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