Pain — the growth/aging process is not without cost. No one who knew me as a child/teenager/young mother would recognize me today. I’m not sure exactly when Real Ann emerged. Maybe after nursing school, or after my daughter’s surgery. Or after my divorce. Or when I had to take back my life from an abusive post divorce relationship. Was it the yoga? The meditation? Changing shifts? Moving to my own place? Getting a motorcycle license? Subtle — baby steps — from isolated child to purple haired Nana. I’m glad you enjoyed the post. Thank you for your kind words.