When I began these essays, I had never typed any more than a paragraph or sentences in response to questions. Then my Mom and Poorman wanted to find out what I really knew and my ability to function thoughtfully. My capability to create art with words was always present, waiting to be shared. I write for all of those voices that have not been expressed. Join me and let’s free those who yearn to type, “I love you, Mom.” Everyone has voice . It is unique. Let’s find it and honor it.