For a couple of years now, I have been asking myself the question “how can I share my story?” And also, “why do I want/need to tell my story?” Maybe not my whole story, but aspects of it. Like most people, I find autobiography and storytelling to be a powerful medium. It is healing, didactic and inspiring, to name but a few things. Those that have gone before me, act as Polaris in some of life’s darker moments. When we engage in storytelling or read an autobiography we learn that we are not alone in what we call the “human condition.” More importantly though, we learn that it is perfectly okay to be human.
I flew back to Vancouver for the birth of my new niece. It would be my sister’s fifth baby and I was excited to be her doula.
I was home, but only for five days. My Dad picked me up from the airport. He commented that “I was looking older” (gee, thanks). After catching up over brunch, my Dad dropped me off at my sister’s house.
To be continued.
