I shall not die.
They were [deceased husband]Jimmy's words but they belonged now to Kendra Norman-Bellamy. For two years, they'd moved around inside of her, strumming her heartstrings every time she remembered the title of the last sermon he preached.
Growing up, it wasn't usual for her to record events of her life in diaries. She wrote plays, skits and poems and proudly shared them at her church, funerals, weddings and family reunions.
But not these words. These were meant for her eyes only.
Bellamy typed and cried and typed and cried until all the pain was gone, until there was nothing left but stories like hers and Jimmy's.
What would she do with those? More here...