Frrancis delivers the Chest that contains the Diary to Vicky

Message from Vicky

In June of 1971 my life began as a surprise or a mistake, depending on your disposition .I am the youngest of three, nine years younger than my brother and eleven years younger than my sister. The age difference meant for me that by the time I was ten, I was alone. My father was a former marine and a small town police chief in Michigan. My mother worked many jobs, but for most of my life she worked long hours in a factory or as a home health care worker. I began writing as a means of escape, a way to release pain. My parents separated my senior year of high school and divorced right after my graduation. In 1994 I began to date a former classmate and we married a year later. I worked in retail management and continued to write in my spare time. In 2002 we had our first son and then four years later our second. I quit work and became a stay at home mom and writing once again became a lifeline. I began posting writing on MySpace and that is where I was privileged to become familiar with The Diary project.

I was given a day to contribute to the diary, due to time and scheduling conflicts. I felt like I was holding hearts and souls of those Angels who had previously shared of themselves. The diary is dream turned into reality. It is labor of love, passion and pain bursting from pen. The musicians, artists and writers laid themselves bare. I felt overwhelmed by the vision I beheld. It felt like magic, tangible and vibrating, and I was gifted with the opportunity to take part. It was my honor to have my words joins in amongst the beauty that is The Diary.

I have never published any poems and I am deciding whether or not I wish to pursue that path. I enjoy the quiet life. Being a mother and wife, is my life. I am happy to spend my days lost in thought, reading, writing or just being with those I love.

My Way Home

i know moments of relief

i am able to recognize beauty

i can see the small moments of purity, joy

in the animated faces of my sons

in their wonderment

their needs, I am filled

they look to me

as man looks to God

mother

perfect in imperfection

i take their love not lightly

we need each other

and i give to them

that which i can’t even give to myself

i give them all

a tenderness from mothers mouth to child’s ears

a connection between ages and time

my sons, my blood

kissing them goodnight

i kiss the lips of my mother (gone now three years)

and great grandchildren

whom I will never know

my sons

my future and past

my purpose and hope

purest of love

creation of the divine

Victoria Howery

© All rights reserved to the  poetry and writings by Vicki Howery