Brenda-Lee Ranta composed her first poem at the age of seven. Throughout her life, she used prose as a means of logging her experiences in a life which has been under ‘constant construction.’
Amazing to her, is that at the age of 58, CTU Publishing Group published her first book, “Myriad of Perceptions,” to be followed by “Allegories – a thirst for connection.” It was for her, a life changing experience, taking her from journal writing to giving her words a life beyond herself. Her two books also were awarded five-star reviews from Readers Favorite.
Brenda-Lee shares her journey with her soul mate, Hugh Dysart, also a published poet, lyricist and musician. They are parents to their collective five children and grandchildren. They live a life dedicated to each other, their kids, pets and their shared artforms.
Here is an excerpt from Brenda-Lee’s latest book A Soul Passenger
A Place Called Home
A new life was surreal. For weeks, it seemed to Brandi that she was just visiting, each day when pulling into her new driveway. Entering her house, the house was peaceful, calm and quiet. Used to being in perpetual motion, waiting for the other shoe to drop, was a habit her brain needed to unlearn. She would sit in her armchair, with a glass of wine, in complete silence; for at least an hour each day after work. Scanning her new surroundings, walls painted in colors she selected, furniture arranged to her taste, art hung where she wanted it, gave her such satisfaction.
It was a difficult transition for her children. Belinda had discovered her own freedom in some negative ways, which caused Brandi enormous worry. Anthony seldom left his room, a habit he found impossible to break.
Healing needed to be done all around. It would take time.
Many nights, after she had made dinner and cleaned up, she would sit quietly in her armchair, seldom turning on the television, reveling in the freedom of being alone with her thoughts. “What are my dreams?” She had been asked this by a counsellor she had visited a few times before she left her husband. At the time, she was left so downtrodden and confused when she had no answer to tell the very kind lady looking her in the eyes. She knew now, that forgetting how to dream, must have subconsciously pushed her to finally leave; however, she still had no dream. Every night she asked herself, “What are my dreams, where do I see myself in five years?” Still nothing came, nothing tangible. She visualized herself as a piece of white paper, filled with words. She saw herself throughout all those years, tearing little bits of the paper, chewing them – swallowing them, until there was no paper left. One thing for sure, the words were still within her somewhere; she had ingested them all; surely, they were all inside, deeply buried.
Fall was coming, the days were getting cooler. In all her years of marriage, Brandi had never had the freedom to just go visit her mother, in another province, when she wanted to. She realized she had never taken a road trip in her car alone; the thought seemed to call to her. Needing to do something just for her, a chance to reconnect with her mother, exhilarated by driving the open road. She asked Belinda if she was interested in taking a road trip to visit her grandmother, affording them a chance to talk and to bond.
Packing their suitcases, she made sure her son, who was very pleased to have the house to himself for a week, had enough meals to carry him through the next ten days. Brandi arranged the time off from work and the two women loaded the car, gassed up, making a promise to stop at every Dairy Queen from Ontario to Manitoba, just because they could!
There was a wonderful excitement between Brandi and Belinda, taking turns choosing the next CD they would blast in the car. They sang at the top of their voices; Belinda hung her head out the window when they drove through the Palisades, taking pictures of the mist rising off the jagged walls of rock surrounding them. They stopped whenever the whimsy took them at gift shops, coffee shops or to just look at waterfalls along the way. The trip took two days, leaving Brandi euphoric with freedom. She was singing rap songs with her daughter, who was taking pictures of her mother’s antics, giggling at this new side of Mom. The women roared out loud as they pulled into each Dairy Queen they found in a new town, chiding each other, that they had better find a store that sold spandex pants very soon!
Continued in book . . .
A Soul Passenger–Now Available
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