The Paper Mache Palm Tree

My life got thrown off track ages ago, but especially about 10 to 11 years ago. (It will be 11 years on Monday.)

Monday is the anniversary of losing my father. That year, when I was about 10 years old, I had this really sweet teacher, who loved traveling. She had tropical fish in her class room, and this awesome looking paper mache palm tree in the corner that students could sit under while it was time for reading.

I don't know why I wrote this. Maybe because it can been really hard for me to dig deep and get the words out. Maybe it's because I considered home, for so long, to be the time before I lost my dad, a place in time that I will never get to have again.

I know that dwelling on the past isn't healthy, but how do you move forward when you have to leave behind one of the best parts of your story?

So yeah. That's a part of my story. (It is a complicated mess.) A girl living in the shadows of losing a loved one, trying to create her own identity and stepping into the sunlight.