A toddler in an emotionally explosive and unstable family has her leg amputated. In spite of significant hurdles, she powers through to become a successful career woman and equally successful single parent.
Wendy Sura Thomson is a 5-star author of Summon the Tiger, The Third Order, The Man from Burnt Island, and Postcards from the Future (as a contributing author.) She has several more works underway. She lives in Michigan with her beloved Setters and covets sipping coffee outdoors first thing in the morning, rain or shine., listening to the waterfall and the birds and watching [often with amusement] the pups explore.
Dysfunctional families are everywhere. or so it seems to me. I remember being astonished when I ran into a "normal", loving family. I remember thinking that those families really do exist. And what I found? A 70-year long marriage. Five children who all did well. Who (for the most part) stayed married, had children, cared for one another. No extreme drama. No unfortunate life choices... just normal, well-adjusted, happy, loving people.
It's been my limited experience that those families are in the minority... but that they do exist, and that striving for same is really, really worth it.
Summon the Tiger
So there I was, washing dishes as the King, Queen and Princess took no note, discussing an event of which I was not as much as informed. So I threw down the dish cloth – threw it right down on the counter. “Is that what Ted Strunk was asking me about?” “Yes.” “And you didn’t think to even mention it to me?” Oh, I was becoming more and more furious. My sister turned to me and snarled, “You aren’t invited.” An incredulous me replied, “What??” She then let loose. “You aren’t invited. I hate you!! I will never see you again. I wouldn’t even visit your grave except to spit on it.” Oh man. I lost it. I was yelling. They had never heard me yell – I realized that afterwards. Never. I had always kept everything in, never taking the bait. Not now. Not tonight. My father was dumbstruck. Can’t remember him uttering a single word. My mother got up and came over to whisper, “I’ll call you tomorrow.” I yelled at her, too: “What, you have to whisper? I’m not good enough?” My sister was yelling that they were leaving, and I was yelling that, “You are the one choosing to leave. I am not kicking you out – which is probably the story you would tell if mom and dad weren’t here to see it.” What a row. Oh man. All I could think of is Cinderella no more. For all I have done, this is not how I deserve to be treated. No more. Never again.