Five Years Ago

Five years ago was a Saturday.

It was a stressful morning with lots of angst going on over whatever causes angst on Saturday mornings in our home.

Five years ago I was 39, and my children ranged in age from 17 to 2.

We had a full house with all of our children still living at home, though one was in Bolivia visiting five years ago.

Five years ago I was in the thick of naming and processing much broken in my life.

Sort of like the broken that called me to return this year, I was in a place of inner turmoil.

Five years ago I woke from a nap to devastating news.

I hate killing and death. I don’t want to live in a hate~filled world, I wrote in my journal.

Five years later and much has changed.

But one thing has not. I won’t forget.

Thanks for heart-composting with me! I appreciate your words.

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