Thirty years ago today, March 31st, my life changed forever. I was eight-years-old and lost my father to colon cancer.
Recently, I reconnected with my father’s only living brother, who I hadn’t seen or spoken to since my father’s funeral. And recently, he too died of cancer – of the brain. I will forever be grateful for the time we shared.
Soon, I will have the book, that’s been thirty years in the making, published.
It seems my life has come full circle. And I can’t help but feel that I’ve been guided to this very point in my life. My upcoming book is the most vulnerable and raw writing I will likely ever produce.
In any case, today is a special day to me. Ironically, as I pulled into the parking lot of a school I’ve never been, in a town 2 hours from where we live, I hear a hissing sound and discover my front tire is going flat and later – a huge nail in one of the back tires. But yet, there I was – safe, and wondering how on earth I made it, where I was when the odds were obviously against me.
Must be the angels watching over my son and I. Or – so I’d like to think.
* My dad, Willard, in Vietnam.
