A Remembering... · ADHD Focus Founders

A Remembering...

When my mother was dying, I sat by her bedside with the guitar she bought me. I played and sang “Round Here” with everything in me. It was loud, emotional, unrestrained. It was the last thing she would ever hear.

At some point I looked up and saw doctors and nurses lining the hallway, crying. I looked back at my mother, and in that moment I felt the doorway open. I felt her leave before the machines caught up.

I kept singing.

Something changed in me that day.

All my stage fright—decades of it—vanished in the movement of that moment. Because I wasn’t performing. I wasn’t being judged. I wasn’t being watched.

I was being witnessed.

My voice wasn’t a risk.

It wasn’t a liability.

It wasn’t something to hide or control.

It was a bridge.

A way through.

A way out.

A way home.

That moment rewired something in me forever. It showed me who I am when I’m not afraid. It showed me what my voice becomes when I stop trying to make it safe for everyone else.

It was a remembering.

A remembering that being seen can be sacred.

A remembering that my voice can open doors.

A remembering that visibility isn’t danger—it’s truth.

A remembering that I am not the child who had to hide to survive.

I am the woman who can sing a soul across a threshold.

And the view is beautiful.

https://youtu.be/ZYypnChVATk?feature=shared

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