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July 8, 2012

I told a client I’d read a book that was assigned to me, and I stuck by my word. It was a quick read thanks to the author’s great conversational style of writing. Luckily as well, the book was actually one of the better ones I’ve been assigned, so I truly enjoyed reading it.

When I received the books, I read the back immediately and discovered I could do a lot with this book, both personally and professionally. The author, Deborah Livingston, wrote her book Strand of Pearls dealing with her life of overcoming intense emotional and physical abuse by her father. Given my own personal experiences with my father, I felt as though I’d been given this book for a reason and that I could really do a lot with it. Luckily, in my position, I’m often given books for a specific personal reason, which really helps when trying to promote someone who is otherwise completely unknown to the literary world. You fight much harder with books you truly care about, with books that truly resonate with you as a person.

Her story, because of it’s conversational aspects, allowed me to relate well with her, and although her childhood was much worse than mine, I saw many similarities in how my person responded to the events of my childhood, including my self-esteem and the years it took for me finally come to peace with me as a person, and as the wonderful woman I know myself to be today.

I finished the book in a day.

Fast forward to today. It wasn’t a particularly easy morning, and after an entire weekend of intense cramping from my endometriosis, and a sheer bitchy attitude, I was crying before 11 am. My dad called to ask me to hang (which is already very unlike him) and I was crying. He talked with me for a while about how I was and what was going on, and reassured me that I could talk to him about whatever it was that was going on in my life that was causing me to cry. I assured him I was fine.

After that call, he called my mother and explained I was having a hard time, and she called me too. This. is. very. rare.

I’ve explained hard times to my parents before, and I’ve been met with “Well, that’s how life is”. I’ve never once expected them to talk me through my tears or console me in any way. In fact, I thank them for that because it made me the adult I am today. But, what happened today was welcomed, wonderful, and completely unexpected.

But I loved it.

It was wonderful to finally realize that although my parents definitely have hard times, and are human beings, they do love me very much.

My parents are now empty-nesters, as my sister is raising her own child and I’m living on my own. They finally have that time to themselves, and I think with a new grandbaby, many recent deaths in the family, my parents finally realized they need to be there for me. I know I can call them and talk to them, (not my first choice) but I know that they care. That’s all I ever wanted. I just wanted to know that they care.

Monumental day for me. Monumental.

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