I am someone that has always questioned life, my existence, and why I'm here.
Maybe it's because I never knew my biological father, that I was a 60's baby born out of wedlock and that my mother's decision to keep me was made final by the universe. That I withstood her anguish and desperate actions. But that I held on. That I was meant to be... I was born.
Or maybe it's because in one split second, one fleeting conversation with a complete stranger in the hospital bed next to her, my mother resolved to keep me. She chose to not give me up for adoption. That she was strong enough to be a single mother. That even when forced to let go of me for my first month of life, she didn't give up on me. She endured the sentence. She showed up. She picked me up. And saved me from the 'system'.
So there is no question that my mother's strength is why I am here.
But I still can't help but wonder... "for what purpose?"
(January 23rd, 2013)
One life, one journey, one dot at a time... making sense of it all from the inside, out.