Excerpts from my personal journals.
"Today I am nearly six months pregnant, carrying mine and Eric's daughter, and it is such a wild thing to imagine we are bringing another generation into the world. During this time of joy I cannot help but let sadness creep in from time to time, times such as those when I am driving the back way home and pass through farm fields and by lots full of tractors. My thoughts quickly find their way to a little cemetery near a one room church, just off the side of a small gravel road and nestled near the boot heal of Missouri. Beneath the rich country soil three generations of my own family can be found: my father, his mother, and her mother and father too, these people making up life as I once knew it and will never know it again. My heart and soul has been dissected into pieces and placed deep into that very soil, but the home I once had there is gone. My daughter will never know what it is like to catch tadpoles and crawdads in Castor River, will never sit on the boulder beneath our Mimosa tree - breathing in the sweet aroma while watching the cows peeking over from Uncle John's pasture, will never collect black eyed susan's from the road side before stealing a sip of Grandma Dorothy's sweet tea. I know she will have other experiences and will build homes of her own, yet the pieces of my own heart which have been left behind, they continue to pulse beneath the soil, begging me to find my way home."