The day came without any warning.
When I opened my mailbox, I felt a sudden exhilaration. I had no idea it was coming! I couldn't believe it had arrived with so little fanfare.
It seemed like there should have been a huge bunch of balloons floating above my mailbox, colorful streamers decorating the post, perhaps even some confetti cannons set to go off when the mailbox was opened.
My first published writing. It brought an indescribable happiness to my heart as I flipped open the publication and saw the title, Remembering, followed by my name.
I read through it once again, proud of the work it had taken to transform my story into words that went into even more detail to describe what I had endured in my younger years. I remembered the pain that resurfaced as I recalled the things I had gone through - and the difficulty in adding memories that I was fine with forgetting.
I looked to the table of contents. There I was again.
What an awesome feeling of accomplishment!
Would you like to see what I wrote? It's not a funny story. It's not witty or clever. But it's MY story - a huge part of the story of me.
Tomorrow I will link to my original essay and show you what it became with the help of an editor. I'd love to hear what you think.
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