Thursday, July 17, 2014
I got news this morning that someone who had caused a traumatic event in 1963 dropped dead from an aneurysm.
I hope that most of their negative power over me left years ago (therapy does do miracles), but everyone once in awhile when I looked in the mirror I could still hear their voice saying, "no one will love you ever."
The event had its positive effects in my life. I made sure my children never heard that same voice; I am now teaching a grandchild the same lessons I've learned.
I was an outstanding practitioner of my chosen career thanks to an ability I learned early: staying calm when the awful actually happens.
Today, however, I am singing, "Ding-dong the witch is dead; ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead."