As I come to the final laps of my journey writing my debut novel, Even Tough Women Can Crack Like Eggs Sometimes, I have been overwhelmed with emotions running the gamut from excitement to fear to gratitude to grief to joy to insecurity to pride to sadness to understanding and to acceptance. As some of you who know me – really know me – know I list things alphabetically in my writing and have for a long time. I do this because it flows better for me…and I am just that type of woman – Type A for ABSOLUTELY AWESOME. Pfft! Did ya really think I was going to write something else, cookie cakes? Aahhh, No! *grinning*
I wrote acceptance last because this is what I am slowly – like a turtle – growing into with the life my Creator gave me. And, sadly, there has been an abundance of tears on this path. In fact, my sinuses are getting ready to go on strike for all of the extra hours they have been working. Uh oh!
Last night, I had a few hours of incredible conversation with a friend, writing mentor and kindred talking about my DNA, the inspiration for TOUGH, the journey I have taken, where I am, where she is, life, tears, laughter, and me – the authentic Diane only a few have ever been invited to know. I am a reserved kinda gal. I come from a bloodline who really had no business raising me. My grandma was my saving grace and when she died – I was barely eight – I was shown what hell on earth was by the vultures who share my DNA. And I did what I do best – I retreated. Imagine a wounded animal left alone to fend for themselves. That is me. I just go off to be by myself to heal…or to die. I am blinking back the tears as I type this but a few have slipped though and yes, my sinuses are in a tizzy.
Something has been on my mind and in my heart about my paternal DNA for quite some time. I have shared this with only one person – my hero. Until last night. While writing Even Tough Women Can Crack Like Eggs Sometimes that something has
been whispering louder and louder for me to dig deeper. I have questioned the events surrounding my paternal DNA. I have come up emptied handed. And my ma’s DNA has kept their traps shut about him and the events surrounding the night I was conceived.
Which is why I will be asking my followers and my readers to join me in the search to finding out the truth surrounding my birth. My ma has gone to her grave never answering my questions, nor my pleads for information on who he really is. Sadly, the vultures who share or married into my DNA are still keeping their silence, which is so unlike them. Which has me wondering why they aren’t sharing what they know.
Am I scared? Ya bet your ass I am. I am afraid I may find out I wasn’t born from an act of violence, and a man who shares my DNA – my father – may have in fact been wrongfully accused of something he didn’t do. Which leaves me with an ache inside because I believe I am the result from a violent night between a disgusting monster and my mother. And that may not be the case at all. However, if he did, in fact, do what he was accused of, at least I have the answer my soul needs. All of the information will be inside the pages of my novel, Even Tough Women Can Crack Like Eggs Sometimes, so I hope you will join me in the search. With all my heart, cookie cakes, thank you. #DianeMorascosPaternalDNA
I will always be grateful to my grandma for saving my life, my hero for breathing life into my soul and Tanya R. Taylor for reminding me how precious my life is.
P. S. I am almost certain my DNA didn’t expect this day to arrive. And, I have no doubt Heaven and Hell will be battling as I navigate this terrain. Guess what? I am ready! Bring it!