Dreams of Places of Heart…

If I could name something after me, it would be something that speaks to my heart. A park, maybe, one where people could come and sit and feel the beauty and greatness of nature. With benches and a pond or creek. Trees to sit beneath, filled with birds and squirrels that play and sing. A place where the quiet noise speaks to one’s heart and soothes the soul.

Or perhaps a house, a place for women abused, with nowhere to go. A place of safety and help. A place where they could get their feet back under them, where they would feel cared for and not alone. A tiny home community for older women, widowed or just alone. A place where they could enjoy companionship from each other, where they could feel safe and not so alone.

I wish it could be a place that is handicapped accessible in every way, so if there are disabilities, they are thought of and not an imposing factor in life. Somewhere they could speak freely and enjoy the time ahead. These are all things I wish I had. I do have the park… it is here on my acres. It is where I come to feel safe and at home. But it is lonely now in this ending era of life. I am a widow, whose grown kids and grandkids are seen less often, and heard from less, too. I could use the community of other women my age and in a similar situation.

The abuse of my younger years was worked through by me… Alone… Well, with God’s help and mercy and grace it was. I am a survivor, an evolver, but at this point, life is so heavy, and I am so weary and tired. But despite all the hardship, there remains a quiet hope in my heart. I dream of these places not only for myself, but for all who need them—a legacy of compassion, sanctuary, and connection. Maybe someday, such a place will become a haven for others, just as I wish it could be for me now.