Blood of Their Sons

I am the product of MaeAlice, given her namethe one I changed because it conjured too much discontent. Required too much of me to overcome, and now refuses me to forget. My grandmother and I were close, but it was closeness born of bitterness and despair. Hers came now from her date with death; mine was resentment for the woman who gave me birth. I would learn that our pain was the same. It came from the place that blessed us with special gifts and cursed us with its cost.
From it, I have come to know that we all contribute to how life unfolds, given a thread to weave before time had a name, The tapestry we weave is up to us; and yet, there is something at work beyond our own will, if not our own awareness. Whether we accept or distort our role in creation is a choice we make with every decision. Regardless of what we decide, each choice becomes a ripple across time.

Dettagli