I come from a line of survivors and warriors, who crossed war zones and oceans. This is my bloodline, which ebbs and flows through my veins, sparks the electrical impulses through my neuro psyche. 

My ancestors afforded me a life of the freedom of choice and expression here in the United States. They gifted me with an inheritance not of monetary riches, but of the wealth of ingrained survival skills and the drive to never settle and to always move forward. They instilled in me the courage to embark on many journeys, whether chosen or necessitated.

I start at this childhood place and space, even though this journey I’m about to recount is from a recent timeframe in my middle adulthood.

Why? Because my kidney failure wasn’t an occurrence unto its own nor solely physical. 

I open with these words on January 24, 2026:

“I am forty-five years old. I am six months old. These are simultaneous truths.”

You see, I was gifted a new life on July 24, 2025, the date of my life-saving kidney transplant.  And now my newly anointed kidney rebirthday. My infinite, eternal gratitude goes out to my earth angel kidney donor and friend, Spencer. I cannot possibly ever thank him or love him enough. Ever.

But perhaps the next best thing I can do, is to make the most of this new life to tell the story, and create and share more beyond this story in a kind of eternal epilogue. Or maybe just wholly new volumes, wholly new lives I have yet to live.  Because a great story will always compel you to turn the page.