Iva, this is amazing!

I’ve got a little secret to tell you:

I had that kind of childhood. And I mostly gave it to my children. Until their mom got sick and died.

After that? Well, I tried. And they have grown up and moved on. But I know nothing of the pain they carry. Because I’ve been too wrapped up in my own.

Every one of us has a unique experience. And every one of them is valuable. What I see in your writing is a fearlessness I’ve never even had to consider. That makes me proud, of a stranger. Which is kinda weird (I think) and yet enlightening.

So, keep writing. Because your experience is as foreign to me as mine is to anyone else’s. And I believe that’s one of the central tenants to life on this plane. Let’s all lean in and listen to each other. Because that is how we learn compassion and empathy.

Written by

father, motorcyclist, old retired guy who’s just a little lost on a blue marble corkscrewing its way to oblivion

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