There is snow falling as the light dims. Everything as a blue tint and our neighborhood is silent in between the squeals of my children playing. Small bundles of winter jackets and warm snow pants, they roll and laugh in the yard. They both pause and watch the giant snow plow as it pushes snow to the side of the road in front of our home.

The bigger one climbs the small mound of snow the truck has left behind and kicks her leg over the mailbox post. She settles her long lean body on the post behind the box and watches the truck as it rounds the corner, pushing snow out of view only leaving the deep rumble of it’s engine as a reminder of it’s work.

My husband stops his shoveling and removes his gloves. He smiles as he pulls his camera from his coat pocket and starts making photographs of our daughter, perched at the end of our driveway, on our mailbox. She swings her feet and watches the snow fall as he crouches down and makes a few more portraits. He slides his camera back into his coat pocket and helps our girl down from her post and she scurries off.

I can’t help but feel grateful for this scene. The scene I watched unnoticed by both my husband and my daughters. I am grateful for my eclectic daughter and her growing fearlessness. I am grateful to be married to someone who lives his art and his passion. I am grateful to be a role model to my girls of how to do whatever it is that makes your heart happy.

Being the black sheep, the odd man out, marching to the beat of my own drum hasn’t always been easy. It can feel isolating and lonely. Having to explain myself and my choices is exhausting and sometimes frustrating. But then, in the midst of a snow storm I watch my girls as they admire a truck and climb out mailbox. I watch my husband stop to make art and I curl up on my couch to write and I realize that the frustrations and the loneliness are fading. As my family grows and I am surrounded by like-minded people, the isolation is lifting.

I wouldn’t change a thing about my family. We all have our own drummer and sometimes our music doesn’t match but we are who we are, not who we think we should be. We are authentic and living our dreams. I am so deeply thankful for that. I know I am on the right path as long as i have my flock of black sheep by my side.

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