Another year has passed since my parents left this earth. That day so long ago more than my parents died, but also a nine-year-old little girl as well. Any hopes and dreams of healing and restoration of her family were destroyed. Not only her, but for her 3 younger siblings who were robbed of ever knowing their parents. I think of how I recall that day, the sun shining, and anticipation of moving to a new home where we could be safe from the sickness that had taken over my father. My heart hurts for those 4 innocent children, but, after years of working through the pain, it also hurts for my parents. Lives cut way too short at 32 years old and 26 years old. For my father, sadness that healing from addiction, past demons, and hurts never came. My mom, a young mother who lived in constant fear and anxiety. No joy, no laughter, loss of seeing their children grow up, no weddings, graduations, grandchildren...and one of the hardest for me...is the validation of...
"You may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dust I'll rise."-Maya Angelou