All my life I tried to find the real me. On the way I buried two husbands. It was not until the death of the second that I began the search to find out who I was. It took 65 years for the real me to surface and I am not done searching.
I always was someone’s daughter, and had to listen to what others wanted for me.
I was someone’s mother and had to do what was best for the children.
I was someone’s wife, and had to take care of husbands and guide them when needed
But! I never found the time to get to know the real me…until late in life!
It is written and contained within words in the articles I write, will write or have already written.