February 24, 1995
Some dates do not pass with time. They remain.
February 24, 1995 is one of them.
On that day, I was scheduled to speak.
Instead, I nearly lost my life.
It is easy to say that I survived. But survival is not the full meaning of it. There are moments that interrupt your life, and there are moments that return you to it under different terms.
Before that day, my life was shaped by responsibility—what needed to be done, what needed to be carried, what needed to continue.
After that day, I understood something I had not fully considered before.
Time is not assumed. It is given.
Nothing around me changed immediately. But something within me did. I began, slowly, to see that not everything I had been carrying belonged to me.
February 24, 1995 did not just mark a moment I lived through.
It marked the moment my life was returned to me—differently.
……
I will be writing more in the coming days about the life that came before—and what followed after.
Oh my, Mary. 🥹 You are a gift to all of us. WE are grateful. And here now you've reminded us that we are fragile too. Sending you a big hug tonight. May the sunshine greet you tomorrow with a sparkle of promise. 🌞
You have my interest Mary. I’ll be watching for more