I have always wondered as a child how my life would turn out.

a fairy tale? No its more than that. it more than an imagination.

I can feel them see them and it takes my breath away.

makes me wonder why God has chosen me,

he has given me two souls, to take care of and to nurture.

alittle seed of alittle faith and as I water them with love they grow.

and I believe.

It seems as if I turn my head for a minute and they turn one.

next thing I will know there thirty. With their own families.

and God will give them a seed or two to grow. It makes me

happy to know that my soul is deep within them and they are a

part of me. A part of me lives on.

I love them more than any possible thing I have ever owned or

lived for. It hurts to know that my body goes into an ache that

feels so good that I have some tots that love me.

I love them tots of mine.

patchouli

There are only a few select people I know that wears patchouli,Hippies in the grocery store and of course the women in my family.The smell sweetens my soul and it wraps around my heart. When I smell this patchouli, I find myself at a halt. My body goesinto shock and I linger the sweet perfume. When I was a little girlI remember visiting my aunts and wanting to smell them, call me crazy butthat’s what I remember most about them. I would get all giggles and full of love.See to me Patchouli is love. My grandmother bathe us girls every time we see her.I miss my grandmother. I only get to see her every once in awhile. and I find myselfTaking a rag or something from her home and put it in a plastic bag just to keep her smell.Patchouli has different meanings of my life. Take my aunt Julia, she’s the oldest out of the bunch.When I smell the scent of patchouli she’s what comes to mind first. When we would play as children she always had music going more of Enya and Jewel, incense would roam her house. It would kick you right out of the door. But I didn't mind. This is my love. Then comes my mother she’s the fire of them all.She’s a pistol, protector, and very wise. Whenever I need my mother she holds me like a child when I weep, That smell again of Patchouli makes me calm. I wouldn't ever want to mess with my mother.But again this is my love. Then comes Marsha she’s the hippie, married to a rock and roll dude, that totally completes her. Today she came to visit and I jumped for joy. She’s the lover out of the girls.She does not linger or judge you. she’s always kind. and most predictable. I was sad to see her go today but before she left she handed me something, something of patchouli. I cried as she walked out of the door. Then comes Melissa she is the funnier one. I remember just watching as she would get ready. Loving clothes and everything with makeup. When I would visit her she always took me shopping. Whenever she was finished getting ready she would put the oil on and look in the mirror and pat her sides with her arms. Never fails she always no matter where or what she’s doing when she’s done you will hear those pats on her leg. And I know we are ready to go. Last but certainly not the least. Is my aunt Willow. She is our writer, storyteller, and our laughs. If we ever need a story she’s the one that tells. I love setting around with all of us and her telling us stories. Laughing til we piss ourselves, and crying til hurts. She keeps us together with her stories. Every time I see her. She’s smells of Patchouli. See Patchouli brings something deep within me. And its more that just a scent. Its my family, my calmness, my soul… and my love