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From Me to You

17 Nov

More personal than usual. This is a letter from my future self to my present self, requesting insight on the rough journey… just in case one day I forget. Similar to K’Jon’s “On the Ocean,” a song that got me through many rough moments. I would pick up my baby and dance with her everytime it came on the radio, believing that one day my ship would come in, too. 

From me to you.

I will never fully remember your pain, the frustration, the lost sleep, the angry moments waiting for our ship to come in.

I will likely not believe the stories you’ll try to tell me of sleeping in cars, heating baby bottles in gas station microwaves, or of drinking 2% because WIC didn’t cover soy.

I will likely doubt the 8 hours sitting on the side of a Georgia road just shy of exit 333, the site of the Kroger that was home to you more nights than one.

I will likely forget the days of no diapers where onesies were cut along with receiving blankets into triangles to attempt to catch the moisture.

I will likely not remember the cold showers the first week because the homeowner forgot to pay the gas bill in that house with mansion sized rooms.

I will likely not remember the Cobb County library being our only entertainment next to the visiting the park down the street from the Dominoes Pizza we could never afford.

I will likely forget my “first born” sitting on my lap, curled up against my pregnant belly with my little one kicking her from inside, or the startled look of confusion on her face each time.

I likely will forget the meals of lentils, grits, and ramen that I made while 6 months pregnant that fed us, me sacrificing and giving away the greater portion, and saving some to feed my “first born” too.

I will likely forget the roaches that made life there damn near unbearable. That beautiful, spacious, Marietta apartment with the pool and exercise room that was damn near uninhabitable for me.

I will likely forget the day we knew we’d have somewhere to stay so we left only to have to return and find the door locked and our calls unanswered, too broke to go anywhere we slept in the driveway hoping someone would come home. They didn’t.

I will likely forget staying up late with my little one sleeping on my lap, working on my first book while everyone slept.

I will likely forget all these stories and that is why I am grateful to you for writing to me tonight. The rough moments will one day be faded memories that seem like myths and fables. This is our life. These things did happen. We will arrive. I promise you that. I promise you that.

 

Maybe you can relate, maybe you gave up on your dream. Please support me as I stand in courage reclaiming mine. http://fnd.us/c/0dg5f/sh/6waf0

Maybe you can relate, maybe you gave up on your dream. Please support me as I stand in courage reclaiming mine. http://fnd.us/c/0dg5f/sh/6waf0

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Posted by on November 17, 2013 in Inspirational

 

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