Today, I took this photo of our plum tree. Focusing intently on that common little butterfly, a fluttery spark of spring, I missed the wasp. That industrious villain snuck right into my pretty little scene.
The butterfly and the wasp are good symbols of my life these days. A little bit graceful and delicate, but also driven with a fair measure of sting.
I want to share a glimpse into my life. A Midwest life. A married life. A mother’s life. A life of chronic pain. A life of simple joys. A life of words.
This is where I write.
What you should know: I’m a little afraid of every word I post here. Not because it’s profound or meaningful, but because it’s public. It’s nerve-wracking to be read, judged by another. I’m placing my thoughts, my heart, my soul in your hands. Be kind.
Be kind. It’s a good guideline for life in general. These are, of course, the words of a mother. Good thing I am one. I ask you to be kind. I don’t know that I will always write kindly. I do promise to be honest.