Sometimes I think about all that has transpired in my life. Knowing damn well it would not be a love story…but one filled with horror. A certain dread. Reliving the past. Almost like writing a book. Where do I start and where does it end? Do I offend…sharing these stories? Lately I’ve been using more complicated words with my autistic daughter. She actually has a college level of reading. I said the word ‘ubiquous’ to her today and she didn’t know what that meant. I actually started to question myself and wonder if that was a real word. Started talking to her about generations and centuries ago we created an alphabet. Then we created vowels – aeiou.
Why would they have done that? I always believe that they had a code. A system that worked but was forgotten in upcoming years. Like a child that does not know how to wash their own plate, or a child that does not know how to wrap a present, or a child that does not know how to properly make it bed and/or a child who doesn’t know how to sew. Now that can be confusing. Did you say so, sew or sow? Then we have to consider our pronunciation of that particular word. Like extraordinary…yet I say extra ordinary.
With that being said I’m going to bring this to an end. Happy hunting…you have been a dear.