I never knew my mother.
Only a baby when she died, I grew up in the Edgewoods Pack, surrounded by a loving family, and raised by the man they called Jeremy. He wasn't my real father, but I was told he loved my mother so much that when she died, it nearly destroyed him. He said I was the only reason he didn't die too.
The man who I called Daddy was my hero, my playmate, my confidant, and my protector. He was my entire world. My love for him surpassed the number of stars in the universe and exceeded the billions of raindrops in a thousand thunderstorms. I couldn't imagine my life being any different. I never needed a mother...I had him.
I thought there was nothing in the world he would ever allow to separate us.
But not me.
One of my earliest childhood memories consists of a black granite stone beneath a lone oak, the picture of a howling wolf carved deeply into the smooth face of the monument. Kneeling in front, I would trail my fingers across the letters etched into its smooth cool surface, and although I couldn't yet read, I knew what the letters spelled.
He told me.
I have no memories of my mother, but he sometimes tells me I look like her. I've seen pictures in our house and often wondered how he could think so. Her hair was brown while mine is coal black. She had the most startling green eyes I've ever seen. Mine are blue.
But to say my childhood without a mother wasn't happy would be a far cry from the truth. My days were filled playing dress up and having tea parties with my dolls just like any other little girl. I caught fireflies at dusk, keeping them in a jar beside my bed at night and then setting them free at daybreak. I played hide-and- seek in the dark shadows beneath the dusk to dawn light and searched for earthworms beneath rocks and logs for fishing. I had snowball fights and built forts in the woods, never realizing for a moment that I was missing a mother.
I had him.
He took care of me, spending every moment doing anything my young child's brain could create and imagine. From a young age, I knew he wasn't my father, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter our closeness wasn't forged from the ties of blood, there was no one I could have loved more. The Alpha of our pack, he was strong and intimidating, but I rarely saw that side of him. He was caring and fatherly, disciplining me when I needed it, but never failing to remind me how much he loved me.
The pack called him Jeremy.
I called him Dad.
RC Woods is a freelance writer who lives in central Missouri. Author of her first full length novel series, What Lies Beneath-The Brothers Series, she has also written various unpublished memoirs and poems. Together, her love of the natural world, individualistic outlook on life, and passion for writing, lend a hand in creating unique stories and true to life reflections.
From a young age, RC Woods was blessed with the love of reading. Able to immerse her imagination within the pages of a book for hours, this same love prompted her to begin the journey of writing her own novels.
"I love the supernatural and paranormal romance/suspense genres. There are no limitations to the possibilities of the imagination."
Self-published author of three books in the set, What Lies Beneath-The Brothers Series, Book 1- Shane's Story, Book 2 - Wrong Side of Heaven, and Book 3 -Ties That Bind, she is currently working on a stand-alone story based on one of the characters in the final book of the series, "I Had Him - A Daughter's Story".