Living in the Midst of the Hurricane
I grew up in the middle of a tornado, in West Texas. No, I was not like Dorothy, in Kansas, who ended up in the wonderful land of Oz. My younger years were fraught with unexpected moments of rage from my father, craziness from my mother, and tears from sisters and brothers trying to make sense of a dysfunctional home, where anything could happen.
Yet, life is not black and white. There were many moments of tenderness and love as well, and I have some good memories of my tall Dad carrying me in his big strong arms as I laid a sleepy head of blond curls on his shoulder, and I felt safe and loved, in that moment. Remembering Mother waking me up, every morning, singing, and the light of the dawn coming in the window, and I could smell breakfast was cooking.