I've lived an incredibly adventurous life although I didn't always see it that way. On May 24, 1996 (I was 40 years old), I ended up at my sister Carol's again. The world had chewed me up and spit me out so many times, I had lost count. I was running from a dysfunctional marriage, an abusive boss, and extreme Texas weather conditions to return home with my tail between my legs, however, this time something was different. Every morning for two weeks,...