Pamela Stowers Cunningham

Follow the Path With Heart Pamela Stowers Cunningham

Old age isn't for wimps. I've reached the summit of my journey and it feels like I'm on a freight train going downhill and picking up speed. I know I'm not getting out of here alive, who does? Where did it all go? That's exactly why this book was written. I want to remember my adventures, achievements and some of the significant people who influenced my life. If I don't tell it, who will? We all have a story. Mine's no different, it's just mine. I had no idea when I started this book I would learn about my humor, my sense of adventure, and of my accomplishments, some of which made a difference in the lives of others. My story of Hearthstone Park and of Valley National Bank are two examples. I overcame the loss of my 48 year old son and have recovered from alcoholism and yet found the substance of which I am made. My losses have been the greatest possessions I have if they help someone else. What is the saying, "In our desperation is God's opportunity?" I call them the boulders in our lives, those painful events that can take us down. Some give up; I never did! I learned a long time ago, "That life is to be lived forward and understood backward." It's true. Putting it all down in black and white took on a life of its own and revealed to me I was so much more than I thought I was. I believe we all need a passion to live for, how else will we really know who we are? Follow the Path with Heart started as a way of getting a friend off my back who kept saying, "You should write!" If anyone wants to find out who they really are, write about your life, all of it! It may never be published but end up thrown in your old cedar chest for grand-kids to discover after you have died. After reading the book they might say, "Who the heck is she writing about?" That just goes to show you how much we really don't know about someone. I wish my grandma would have written her memoires. I know she was so much more than her long braided hair, her beaver coat she let me wear, her great fried chicken and boysenberry cobbler baked in her oven in her little house in La Habra California. I know there was so much more. Maybe my kids and grand-kids will see that I'm more than meets the eye. No, I don't own a beaver coat or have long braided hair; mine is short and grey. I'm sure my kids and grand-kids will have some memories of me. Hopefully, they will follow their path with heart.