I am from a man who created a car graveyard in his parents backyard. I am from a woman who was swept off her feet by the man who acted like an undertaker for automobiles in his hometown of Detroit.
My name is from the song, Julie Julie Julie Do You Love Me, that the man and the woman listened to over and over in the car as they visited their first daughter as she slowly died in the hospital weeks after her birth. I am made of their hopes and their fears. I am filled with their expectations not for one daughter but for two.
I am filled with the searching the man felt. The searching that never quite ended. The searching for meaning and answers from the man and the woman that made him but died so young he never found his answers.
I am made from the longing of the woman that hoped my presence would settle the man into their life. I am made from the petals of the flowers of the dogwood tree that blooms on the day of my birth.
I am made from them but I am me and the me that I am now has been shaken up by the four little souls that I made with the man who has art in his heart.