37 and a half to life

October 21st marked 28 years since he's been gone, but not really gone. I recently found out that there's a term for what I've been feeling all of these years. Ambiguous Loss. I have been doing a lot of research lately, in an effort to make lemonade out of the many lemons I have been accumulating, I am pursuing a Doctorate degree. The reason? To learn as much as possible about the effects of parental incarceration on their children and how to help (as an educator).   God-willing, my husband will be home to see me graduate. And yes, he'll have to call me doctor! I have a lot of passion for learning and even more for educating others. My hope is to continue my journey and help de-stigmatize the prison experience in schools. How, exactly? That's the part of my story that I'll have to create. I am suddenly in a place where I have to think ahead, to look into a possible future. Something that is difficult for me. I'm more comfortable living in the moment, no more...

 With all of the insanity that continues to overcome our nation, no... our planet, today I choose to write about me. I know, it may sound selfish but I needed to escape for just a few minutes and tell a short story about a promise I broke.  It was July 10, 2020, aka, my birthday. Daughter #1 wanted to do something special for me. She decided to treat me to a salon visit, begging me to get a cute, shorter style. "Cut my hair?," I said, "but I made a promise that I wouldn't cut it until your dad got home! " She insisted and I agreed to "just a trim."  Salon visit day came, my daughter asked, "Ma, so what haircut are you gonna get?" I responded, "A trim, remember?" She didn't like my answer, she wanted a whole different me coming home that day. I understood, what daughter doesn't want to beautify her mother?  I put on my mask, walked into the salon and was greeted by the owner, who would be my stylist (salons were open at very ...