Sometimes I wonder the conversations that took place before and after photos of myself as a baby. Who argued, who didn't want to take a picture, who wasn't ready e.t.c.
I also look at these pictures and I look into my own eyes as a baby. So tiny, delicate,engaging and bright. Seeming to see all and provoking uncontrollable joyous conversation. I then compare them with more recent photos of myself. Fewer questions come to mind. I remembered the arguments, who didn't want to take a photo and who wasn't ready. I compare the possibilities I once felt with the crippling realities faced.
I wonder why you can't remember any of these tiny precious memories and no matter how old you become there are some memories you will never forget.
My eyes have gotten much larger are still bright have seen the dark side and lived to tell the story.
My heart is burdened to carry out the unfulfilled dreams of a that little girl. The never ending conversations about what I want to be when I grow up, with Mother Dear, my mother and my father. The Bible says the Heart is deceitful and desperately wicked but you surely feel that thing don't you. The disparity of doing what's right and what you need to do. Come up against your self worth, belief in you and physical restraints.
I am committed to making every dream, thought, imagination come to fruition. I need this like I need air. I have to make!!! I can't not make it! I can't give up. I have to believe in me for the little girl in the picture and for the little girl from my womb. The little girl who needs something to believe in. A picture of someone that looks like her and has conquered lack. I mentioned it before it gets so hard you want to scream at the top of your lungs and stomp your foot, ball up your fists, curse God and die. I think we all have a little bit of Brother Job in us, tap into it. It's Power.
I send you my strength.
Take a picture, see you on the other side of the struggle
God bless You