It All Became Clear

| This is the 246th story of Our Life Logs | On March 16th, 1993, I was born and became another inconvenience to add to my parents’ list. My father left my hometown of Harrison, Arkansas when I was still a baby and never came back to us, and my mother’s on-again-off-again relationship with drugs eventually had me living with my maternal grandparents by age three. … Continue reading It All Became Clear

When a Soldier’s Last Breath Moves the Flag

| This is the 241st story of Our Life Logs | I was born and raised in Houston, Texas in the 1960s by a very open and loving family. While I was one of five sisters (God bless our parents!), we rarely got in trouble. Maybe it was because we were angels, or maybe it was because they both hated to punish any of us girls. … Continue reading When a Soldier’s Last Breath Moves the Flag

To the Other Side

| This is the 240th story of Our Life Logs | June 1, 1990, Columbus, Ohio. This was the day I was born, miraculously, to a drug-addicted mother who couldn’t take care of me. I was born with fetal alcohol syndrome, diagnosed with bilateral cleft palates which made it hard for me to breathe, mild cerebral palsy, significant hearing impairment, and legal blindness. I came out … Continue reading To the Other Side

The Wound Is Where the Light Comes In

| This is the 239th story of Our Life Logs | Being the granddaughter of a famed, yet tormented writer is both a blessing and a curse. My grandmother and the other women in my line have been deemed mentally unstable, depressive, and worse. I am the only one not to have been electroshocked or institutionalized, yet many times in my life, I have thought that … Continue reading The Wound Is Where the Light Comes In