Before you were conceived, I wanted you. Before you were born, I loved you. Before you were here an hour, I would give my life for you. This is the miracle of love.
This poem infiltrates my thinking and stokes my fires to do what I say I want to do.
It invites me to live the story I want my kids to tell after I've exited the stage left (deadibones).
It provokes me to tell the already lived stories they wouldn't know about me, and helps clarify assumptions they may hold about me after the family's separation and divorce.
What's the story you want told after you're deadibones? (Start acting it out right now)
Who do you want to tell it? (Tell them now)