I was 8, maybe 9 years old.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
She had dark hair that waved gently to her shoulders. Dark, smiling eyes. What I loved most about her were her dark, strong eyebrows. They were eyebrows with character, attitude, strength...and they were so sexy on her. She had a deep voice. She was kind. I watched her constantly, drawn to her, unable to look away. When she wasn't around, there was an empty space and I watched until she was there again, and then things were right once more. She was beautiful. I was terrified of speaking to her, but one night, as we sat around a campfire singing, I somehow managed to sit next to her. Maybe the darkness gave me courage. She strummed on her guitar as her wonderful voice carried the tune, a song that I've remembered long after the others have slipped into oblivion. She turned and smiled at me as she sang; I felt so shy, but so, so happy. Just being near her was heaven.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
So...I was just told this morning, that the Women's Conference is this year. The women's conference is every other year. When I think about it, this is correct....but...what? Where did that extra year go? What did I do in that year? It's such a disorienting feeling.
Some of this is no doubt due to the concussion, but I was also having some memory issues prior to that.
And...this little bit of reading...this little bit of writing...I'm tired.