imageIn 1984, I received my first journal from my grandma. Can you imagine my intrigue opening it 30 years later? April 16, 1985 “Today was my first day of cheerleading [practice]. I was superb. I did everything perfect and the teachers were amazed. I have a cheer that I hope is okay well I’ll find out!” April 22, 1985 “I didn’t make cheerleading. It makes me mad because the reason I didn’t make it was because I missed to much school…I’m not trying out again…It’s going to be hard to go to school tomorrow. But I can do it. I feel sordove [sort of] depressed I guess.” So funny! I totally remember those two days. On that day I didn’t make it, I held my tears in so tight, my eye-vessels could have burst. That afternoon, as soon as the bus dropped me off, the dam was lifted and the tears came pouring out. I remember crying and walking down our street, looking toward our house and seeing my mom. Maybe it was mom-intuition prompting her to be standing there. It meant a lot. Though that day could be remembered as a day of rejection. I choose to remember it as a day my mom was there to wipe my tears and comfort my spirit. Perspective is everything. I hope this encourages someone today.

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