Long chased and loved there's this dream I've carried around in the pocketbook of my heart, all folded up and tucked gently away like a love note or a picture of a beloved.
And every once in a while I've been known to pull it out in the midst of laundry and lunches and love and read it over and over again
until I can see it alive and vibrant with breath in its lungs and soul sparkling in its eyes -- me pressing feet onto untred paths, me pressing black ink into white paper, writing their hearts, their lives into words that wander into other hearts, take a seat at the table and linger long after dinner guests normally stay
-- invited and enjoyed --
There are long days filled to the brim with laundry, lunches and love and my heart sings for the reality I love and the boys and the husband and the life that's unfolded.
I may not be a journalist walking tepid paths telling stories of the brow-beaten souls on faraway soil
but I've been given long-term assignment from the Editor here in this lush and hot and incredible jungle of motherhood tattooing these stories, our story onto a small screen, into a small space.
And you. You come here to share life and share words and share stories.
And it's beyond what I've imagined, what I've long dreamed and carried for so many years.