This post was intended to be about my 3rd great-grandmother, Cynthia Lucinda Townsend, but turned into much more than I was looking into (which is always exciting and sad at the same time). 2,341 more words
"I think of my own silence early on, and maybe it was disbelief that stopped my outrage. Or protection of a daddy I desperately needed. Or fear of exclusion, exile, loss. Or the horror and heartbreak of experiencing the death of the hero. My hero. Or making a decision early on that the rare moment of love was worth the nightmares."