Stitched Together

“I am grateful for what I am and have. My Thanksgiving is perpetual.”  Henry David Thoreau

Thinking of my Origin Story  I do not even know where to begin. My life is like a beautiful homemade quilt. Each of the pieces are different. Some are perfect in size and shape, some are beautiful and regal, and some are brilliantly colored, expressing great joy.  But there are also some discolored and ragged pieces as well. Jagged and rough edges that, while on their own look unappealing, help make up the grand beauty of the quilt.

My life story is filled with all kinds of pieces. Some are gorgeous panels filled with splendid memories.

Sweet family traditions
Amazing accomplishments
Moments with treasured friends

Others, however, are ratty, and tattered.

Lost love
Failures and Regrets

While all the beautiful and perfect pieces help make me who I am, the rough and mismatched pieces are just as important. Without them, I could not live fully. Each and every tattered, discolored, and ragged piece is a lesson, a reminder that I survived and carry on.

Being born and raised in the South, I learned fairly quickly that heritage and family are everything.  Raised by two fiercely strong and independent women, my mother and grandmother, I learned failure is never an option…..even if the odds are against you and everyone around you is telling you to give up. The values of hard work, perseverance, and community were deeply rooted into my being.

And I learned…..everything has a purpose…..even the ugly.

If I were to leave out all the ugly pieces of my life… my story would be incomplete and it wouldn’t look quite right.  It wouldn’t be me.

My story is not perfect. There are some perfect pieces, but there are some plain and imperfect pieces as well. Instead of tossing those imperfect pieces to the side, I choose to carry them with me, as a lovely reminder that my story…..imperfect as it is, is not tainted because of them, but in fact made stronger with them.



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