It would have been a quiet wee-hours early morning in the latter part of September that year of 1965. But as much as I seemed quite content with my cozy environment of my mother’s womb; displayed no doubt by the over-a-week’s-past my expected DOA, she and some oxytocin had other plans prior to sunup.


Representation. In case you wondered. Still the same, I looked no less enthused about it.

“Time to enter this world my precious baby girl,” mom growled through gritted teeth and then screamed, “NOOOWWWW!”


Yes, if you have done the math, I have reached a pinnacle halfway mark on the road to 100. So here I am, recently and slightly unwed, living what seems to be out of a suitcase and still a little unhinged by it all. I find myself questioning. Now what? The pain of rebirth, of learning to crawl, to walk again and to discover anew this world. On my own again trying to walk, albeit with a limp, humbly with my Lord and my God.

Hi, my name is Laurabeee. I am so pleased to meet you. Won’t you join me as we journal through putting Ms. Humpty Dumpty back together again. After all, if it takes a community to raise a child, then surely it takes God and a community to raise up this woman again.


Photo Credit:

www.theguardian.com/  –   Lionel Wotton/Alamy


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