I am grateful to be writing my memoir, DIARRHEA OF LOVE (or how life dealt me a royal flush), because by revisiting the past I get to appreciate all the little moments of happiness that I missed since at the time they were overshadowed by my sorrows and my fears.
I get to step into my body at different stages of my life and truly FEEL and savour the magic moments, notice the light, the sounds, see the beauty that was all around waiting to embrace me if only I had been open to its embrace… to being loved.
It’s never too late. Time doesn’t exist. I can once again be there, in the now, and MARVEL.
I am grateful for moments spent with my father at the kitchen table playing our scribble game because obviously, he was the one who sparked my passion for drawing. It started when I was 4 or 5 — Dad would scribble something on a piece of paper and then I would have to draw something out of it. Next, it was my turn to scribble and Dad’s turn to make something out of it.
My father also liked to draw boats and I was impressed by how quickly and accurately he drew them. I wish I would have kept one of his drawings. But it’s all very vivid in my mind… his pencil strokes, his style.
I am grateful for the key that locked my bedroom door because it made me feel secure. That key also meant that I owned my room which, now that I look back, was in fact my only true home till I moved out, in 1971, to get married.
I am grateful for school because I got to leave the house and the back balcony where I had been trapped for the first 6 years of my life without any intellectual stimulation whatsoever except from the milkman who had always stopped to say Hi, how are you?
I am grateful for my insatiable hunger for change, for new experiences, for learning, for understanding, and for my strong faith in life which never let go of me because without all of that, I would have shot myself a long time ago with one of the 7 rifles that were in my dad’s closet.
THANK YOU, UNIVERSE!