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black eyes and busted lips with makeup, but the injury to my spirit and soul was quite visible to everyone. I lost weight, missed work, and was an emotional wreck.

Shortly before our third wedding anniversary I discovered I was pregnant. Knowing that I didn't want to raise a child in this environment, I swallowed what little pride I had left, summoned my remaining strength, courage and will power and went to my parents for help. They graciously took me in, supported me through a very hard divorce, and never once said "I told you so." On Christmas Eve 1978 I gave birth to a healthy, beautiful baby boy.

I stayed with my parents through my recovery, until I was able to go back to work and get my own place. In my spare time of working and being a single parent I went to college and earned a degree in nursing. At twenty-two I was married again, and thriving well with the fast paced, daily balancing act, in the role of mother, wife, and career woman. The years flew by from there. Where they went, I don't know. My life, in a nut shell, had been good. Taking a closer look would soon unearth the finer details in my dilemma of identify with self.

My thirties were a time of great loss and sadness due to my younger brother being killed in an automobile accident, my Daddy dying five months later and the death of my last remaining Grandparent three years after that. The heart ache and grief of such tremendous loss was followed by a small beam of light that was shed, when at thirty-nine I was blessed with my first Grandchild... a baby girl.

I was married to my second husband for eighteen years. Our marriage ended abruptly the year I turned forty years old. It was overwhelming to learn that my husband, who I was still deeply in love with, was having an affair with my very best friend. From there my life took a series of highs and lows... a second Grand daughter was born, my mother passed away, as well as several of my beloved Aunts and Uncles, and two of my cousins. At forty-six I was dealt the most crushing and devastating blow of my life when my son... my only child..... was tragically killed in a car crash. Surviving these last three years, six months and four days has been a struggle at times.... getting through day by day, and often hour by hour.

I am a nurse, I have been for over twenty-five years. I am thankful to God for the opportunity to work in this noble profession, and to be able to support myself financially. At fifty years old, I am tired, and I am ready for a change.

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