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A Love Redeemed
Have you ever seen a relationship you thought was completely over—beyond repair—somehow find its way back to love? I have. Not just any relationship either, that of my parents’. They were from the same small hometown—everyone knew everybody. My dad was older, but he always knew who my mom was. Their lives were connected long before either of them realized just how much. Eventually, they started dating, fell in love, and got married. They were together for about 21 years before separating and divorcing. And when I say it shook our families and community, I mean it. Whew! Everyone felt it. Their breakup wasn’t just the end of a marriage;…
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The Tagline
“Because what we inherit is just the beginning…” We inherit more than eye color and body type.More than a laugh that echoes a parent’s or a recipe passed down from generation to generation. We inherit resilience.Faith.Work ethic.Creativity.Sacrifice Unfortunately, we also inherit silence.Secrets.Shame.Unspoken expectations.Wounds wrapped in survival. For Gen X-ers and those before us, we grew up in households where certain things just weren’t discussed. You didn’t talk back.You didn’t ask too many questions.You didn’t challenge what made you uncomfortable. Mental illness was “just stress.”Addiction was “just how your uncle is.”Abuse—if spoken of at all—was brushed off as something you just get over. Crying was weak.Talking back was disrespect.Asking for help…
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I Miss My Mama
I woke up with tears in my eyes today. No dream. No trigger. Just grief, sitting in my chest before I could even gather my thoughts. I miss my Mama. Some days are just like that. The loss hits fresh, even after all this time. I could be fine for days, weeks even, and today I’m struggling to keep it together. That’s how grief works—it doesn’t follow a schedule, and it definitely doesn’t ask for permission. It’s been two years and as Mother’s Day gets closer, the feelings will probably get louder. I think about her laugh, her hugs, her bossiness. 🤣 She had a way of answering the most…
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The Middle Space
No one really talks about this part. The space in between. Where you’re no longer the child who gets tucked in, but not quite the elder everyone defers to. Where your parents are gone, your children are grown or growing, and you find yourself… holding. Holding memories.Holding responsibility.Holding emotions for everyone else, and sometimes none for yourself. It’s a space I never saw coming, and yet here I am. The middle. Not center-stage, not retired from the work. Just standing somewhere between what was and what will be. Parenting while grieving. Grieving while navigating. Navigating while being asked to lead. I’ve buried my parents. I’ve buried my only sibling. I’ve…