My turn. My story. Ok.
I am that book you see on the library shelf and walk past. Too many pages. Old fashioned. Just plain boring. I am the product of many books that have come before me. They have been purchased and are no longer with me.
Once you buy me and take me home to read be patient. I will not reveal myself to you straight away. I was shy but now I am not. I was a stay at home old before my time teenager who watched Shakesperean plays with my father Saturday afternoon while my brothers played cricket in the backyard. I played the piano and sat piano exams. I sang in the church choir. I always have loved playing the piano I have always loved singing.
My father was born in 1909. Maybe it was his old values that persuaded me to follow the path I did. Boyfriend, marriage, house paid off and family. It was not easy because i was shy. A person who stood there silently, a shy shadow.
Not anymore. Life has dealt me some hard blows. A song says ‘what doesn’t knock you down makes you stronger’ I got stronger. I had a daughter. I had to stand up for her. I have faced loneliness, through that loneliness I have found what is vital for me to be me. Music and words. If i could muddle around with one or both of them I would be happy.
And then there is my gorgeous gal. Asperger born she has shown me the world through her eyes. All things old are new again. Illness and madness have trod my daughter’s path alongside her and me but we have come through. I had to find something to lean on to comfort me through the hard times. My poetry and my singing. There were times i poured my soul into the words. It helped.
I am a survivor. I know the value of words and i spread those words when I sing and when I write.
Not the End, not just yet