Your leaving helped me understand that I held my own obstacles in place. What I clutch with fear is never mine to begin with. It is just a door handle. Releasing my grip, the old door that held fear at my feet swings open to possibilities I couldn’t see before.
If you have a hero-in-my-works in your life, please know that we wear a cape to justify ourselves and feel worthy, AND we do big things because we love you.
The breezeway and creaking swing are long gone. I remember very few specific words exchanged over that slab of covered concrete. New birds fill the air with song, different crickets fuss at night, but the sanctity of those shared moments in the breezeway lingers.
I don’t identify as an inventor. I don’t invent the stories. I would argue that I’m an adventurer who sets out to find them.
The determination of her son’s heart gave her four decades of story-telling joy. My heart is happy to be able to share the story again. And what joy to be able to stand even today on that same hill and remember a little red tractor, a box of tools, and a determined little boy.
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