I was three years old, and we were headed back to the United States on a huge cruise liner. My father had been stationed in Panama and now he was being assigned to a war overseas, something I did not understand. The ship had a “hat party” to pass the time as the big boat powered across the waters on through the night headed home, where my mom and I would live with both sets of grandparents while Daddy was away.
This is my recollection of the scene that night. It was chaos and confusion, joy and jubilee, madness and mayhem. It is one of my fondest early memories from when I was a little girl, full of joy for this world and all it crazy conundrums.
What is your essential story of life? What is alive in you?