The time has come and I always felt that I would never get to this point, but now that I’m here I am forever grateful. I don’t have words for how much this community means to me. How much the friendships and discussions I’ve had with so many fellow readers and writers have made my heart soar.
These past 9 months of blogging have been some of the best months of my life even though so many things have happened to put a damper on the sheer amount of good it all is worth it.
I want to share with you all on of my favorite pieces of my own writing. This piece is very personal and completely true. It means a lot to me to share it with you on such a momentous occasion.
It was written in response to a prompt about signposts and movement in our own lives. Somehow that transferred into colors to me.
Here are the colors of my beginnings:
In my mind’s eye I go back to the place where I began. I see the street where I grew up, the green expanse of the trees that surrounded my home. Then, finally, the interior that housed my family. The people I owe all my love and gratitude to. That is where my true journey began, in that apartment surrounded by trees and plants grown by my Godfather. My signposts were the color changes in the carpet, walls, and curtains. A beautiful psychedelic flash that marked my growth.
There were also signs that I remember in a grey dullness that matches the gloom I felt during my short passages through. Flashes of roads and mileage signs to Sacramento, Vegas, and places closer to my colorful true home. Grey memories of driving from new house to new house, new school to new school, each a new prison to keep me from the color I longed for.
The moving was constant. Every two years like clockwork. Every time my mother saw I was getting too attached it would be time to pack up, leave, and move on. We always came back, but every time we left was a new crack in my heart. I was too young to understand then why she kept taking me away, all I knew was that it hurt, and I wished it would stop.
Jealousy and want of control should never be in a mother’s heart.
That is what a journey is, a passage in which you change irrevocably, hardening and softening to the point that the person you were and who you are is so different that the only thing you can do is look back, but never touch those memories of how you used to be, even, how you used to think.
For me, even the light colors of the home I grew up in tinted off to a grey at the loss of it. So much warmth, love, and life that came to an end cumulating to a short travel to an apartment one city over. That travel is remembered in blue. The road leading up to the forrent sign tinged in the sadness of losing the one home in my life that had always been stable.
Now my life in that new apartment has gained a new color, the color of hope. Colors of travels to the zoo, walking serenely with my God Mom and sister, reading the various signs to the exhibits
leading up to the chimpanzees; this is where we would sit enjoying the astonishing similarity of the play of the young chimps, and the play of the children that were always there.
That is where my journey is now. In happy colors full of life and happy joys shared with the family that raised me.
The places and roads may change, but the people are the signs that I hold the most dear. They are those that lead me, changing me as they themselves change. They are the colors of my memory, their hands I hold into the light of my future.
Also it wouldn’t be a 1,000 celebration without a Giveaway so here is what you could receive:
$15 to spend on Book Depository and A unique poem written by me about a topic of your choice.
Really it’s all about your choice in this Giveaway.
This Giveaway is international so long as The Book Depository ships to you.
Must be 18 or have parents permission to enter.
This giveaway is not endorsed in any way by rafflecopter or WordPress.
Click the link here to enter.
Thank you all for reading! Also thank you all for being here. I wish you all the best and I hope to speak with you all down in the comments. What an amazing day this was.
-Till next time!