"Your choice." He said.

“Your choice.” He said. That’s the boundaryless guideline my husband gave me in an effort to get me writing again. Or, just, do something for me again. He made it sound as if I could choose any subject. I heard his words as if it was simply the only fitting topic to pursue. My choice? I’ve made a lot of those in the past 28 and a half years. But, none that compare to those I’ve made in the past 24 months. 

It feels important to remain as transparent as possible while I do this. How to do that, and maintain a modest degree of privacy, is yet to be determined. I don’t expect people will want to read about my life. I do think some people may find themselves captivated by what has transpired in the lives of so many prior to me arriving where I am today. You’ll let me know.