Several months ago, while cleaning out our garage, I came across a bin labeled “old memories.” When I opened it, to my surprise, I found writings from when I was very young. I found my first attempt at writing an “autobiography.” When I started reading my own words at the tender age of 9, I was shocked to read the following: ” I told my father I wanted to be famous… he told me to write a book!”

What!!!!

Did my father see something in me at that tender age? Did he see a gift that I would come to embrace close to 50 years later!!!!!!!!

It all came full circle when I attended a book signing. I felt joy and connection with everyone who approached the table and inquired about the book. I realized that my father was right. I was to write a book. Not a cute, innocent, rudimentary autobiography; I mean, how much can a 9-year-old say, but more so, a book that would encapsulate the experience of a woman and mother.

The sense of peace, fulfillment, and completion I felt signing those books was more than just the moment; it was a moment pre-destined, something that was planted into my spirit, something my father saw in me, something my father spoke over me, something my father knew would free me and help others.

It’s important to remember those moments long gone. Life may have gotten complicated and muffled the call, the dream.

Go back to it.

There is no time constraint on re-visiting the dream you once had as a child.

Do not deny yourself the joy that comes with what you believed of yourself long ago.