How did I get here?
That was a question that came up frequently when I lived far from my home state of Michigan for sixteen years. With two kids in t0w, I followed a husband in his career path from state to state, working full time as a teacher and technical editor in my spare time.

Where am I? was an even more common question. (I still get lost on a regular basis.) My roots grew more shallow by the year in my young adulthood and my marriage eroded. I went from job to kid's activity to home in a joyless, endless progression. 

 

It took a couple midlife crises for me to realize what's important. Writing has helped me sort it all out. On paper, life not only makes more sense, but thinking about the past gives me reasons to be very grateful for my present life. I don't do it alone. Having God holding my hand makes my happiness possible.

Peace and blessings,

 

Betty

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The youngest person in this family photo is my mother, Margaret MacKay Beaton, on the farm where she grew up on Cape Mabou, Nova Scotia.

At top: Charlie Beaton before he took his daughters along fishing.

Sisters in the Sixties. Two of my three sisters and me.

Young ladies in the Seventies. All four sisters are in this picture. And Mom.

My children inherited their grandparents' love of animals and nature.

At bottom: Pack lightly. That's advise from Medusa.