ROMANCING PHYLLIS-03

Romancing Phyllis-03 is Page 3 of 10 and continues from Page 2.

The daily constant ongoing moving of five days and four nights of travel, gives me a definite feeling of disconnectedness. And in the constant movement, the grounded feeling is from phone calls to Mom.

But since then, I've discovered that it's common for families not to hear their parents Romancing to Love story, like romancing phyllis-03.

I'm grateful they shared their passionate story about how they got together. Hearing about my parents passion gives me spiritual and emotional healing.

I hope you enjoy my romancing Phyllis-03 story. And, I encourage you to share your own Romancing to Love story, if you have one (not all of us do).

At the bottom of the last page (page 10) of this story, you'll see a form where you are invited to add your own Romancing to Love story. True Love Stories are indeed, truly healing.










By Tsa-me-gahl.
X’aisla Rainforest, Kitamaat, Canada
Turtle Island, Mother Earth, Milky Way



Continued from Romancing Phyllis 02


Between short rest-stops, the miles and hours fly by. I pull into the Gitwanga gas station. I barely have the motor turned off when a young man sticks the pump into the gas tank. When I look at him he points his left thumb up and lifts his eyebrows in question: ‘Fill up?’ I nod: ‘Yes.’ I walk to the out-door public phone and call Mom collect.

“Hi Mom!”

“Hi dear! You at Gitwanga?” she asks.

“Yeah, yeah! I just pulled in. I’m going for a cup of tea. Another hour should do it.”

“Alright dear. Be safe,” she says. We hang up. I go inside to pay for my gas. I hand my status card to the young woman.

“Thanks!” she says smiling.

“No problem. I'm going to have a cup of tea, so add it onto my bill please,” I say.

"Sure thing!" she says. I hand her my bank card then enter my security code.

After paying for my gas and tea I walk to the restaurant section. I sit at a big family-sized booth. The young waitress comes to my table with a menu in her hand. I tell her, “Just a cup of tea please.”

She says, “Sure! Do you want cream with it?”

“Yes please and honey if you have it”

“No, we don’t have honey. Just sugar, sorry,” she replies.

“I’ll have it plain then,” I say. In a few minutes she's back. In her hand is hot tea in a heavy white coffee mug. A plump tea bag floats on top. I take out the bag and sip my tea for a short rest. Then I’m out in my truck. Driving again.




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