Over and over again in my world I have found myself in pieces.
Fault is irrelevant when the pieces cut me.
And I’m a master craftsman. I can take the ugliest and smallest of pieces and make them beautiful, or at least I could.
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This summer I became the mother of a beautiful 16 yr old harlequin Macaw, Harley. Within a week, my arms looked like I'd had a cutting... -
When parenting the chronically mentally ill, one is, in many ways, a passenger on a roller coaster. It's full of highs and lows, twists ...
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Mud You, You see me with mud covered glasses, feel me with shaky hands, love me with missing pieces, and reach for me with broken arms....