This came up in my memories. I love this photo from 2010 even though it was taken in the midst of our trauma. Something about those years of holding tight to each other makes the memories that much more intense.
Looking at this pic this morning I could feel the humid Midwest air and smell the wicker furniture mixed with the evergreen in the breeze. I can hear her 3 year old voice prattling on (nonstop) through her beloved binky. “Mama, can we paint today? Mama, what are we going to do later? Maybe we should go on an adventure and see a plethora of flowers or we could bake! That would be lovely! Let us bake today! I think that’s a splendid idea don’t you Mama? Can I have some juice?” Haha. It was just a jumble of thoughts spilling out of her brilliant little mind. Even now we have to remind her occasionally to ‘think her thoughts’ or they WILL all be spoken.
Adessa came along when I had lost hope. When I didn’t believe I deserved any better. She changed everything. She believed when I couldn’t. Somehow the two girls in this pic not only escaped domestic violence, but survived and flourished. Four years later Allen Rigg would arrive and, well, complete our precious family : )
Dare to believe. Dare to dream. And hold tight to the precious moments-even when in the trauma. You never know what’s up the road.