I’m not the kind of person who has trouble looking back to review a year that’s over. I enjoy the process. I’m thankful for my calendar which records the appointments, dinner plans, travel dates, to-do lists, phone numbers, and any other random thing I don’t want to forget. I must write things down, or I never remember what or where I’m supposed to be or do. I don’t think it’s a result of accumulated birthdays, I’ve always had a partial sieve for a memory.
In preparation to publish my second book Write Your Way Through Change - a 21-Day Devotional Journal for Grief & Major Life Transitions, I want to share the reason why I wrote my first book.
My first book, Hello Nobody is what came from my desire to tell my own story of grief and life transition. I wanted someone to know that if I can make it through, they could too.
The hardest trials actually uncovered my faith. I was raised in a Christian home, brought up in church, youth group and even attended a Christian College. I believed God was good and had good plans for me. I asked Him into my heart and life, in a personal way when I was 16 years old. I knew He was real.
America is the only country I know of that has a national holiday set aside for the purpose of giving thanks. Starting in 1691, a day has been dedicated to food, family and friends gathering together. The Plymouth colonists shared from the bounty of their harvest to celebrate with neighbors, a feast.
Everyone has a story to tell and there is someone that needs to hear it.
Have you ever found yourself in a place of life transition, change that you didn’t ask for or want?
I have and that’s what happened to me. I suddenly found myself facing life alone in the circumstance I didn’t ask for.
I realized when faced with unwanted choices in life, there’s a choice to be made.
The first thing I learned is that grief isn’t fair. It can hit you more than once and can take prisoners.
It’s that time of year again. My screened-in porch gives a new spot for living. This week I washed the furniture, vacuumed all the cushions of winter partials and scrubbed the floor with a solvent that left a squeaky clean feel to bare feet. The ceiling fan ensures a soft constant breeze. Today the humidity is cooperating and is comfortable. The wind passing by comes in ribbons of strength that have tree leaves dancing and shaking, lifting their heads to sound like the waves of the ocean.
I find myself a back seat passenger in my car. For the last 10 years, since my husband passed away, I’ve been the driver. I’ve gotten used driving now, out of necessity. Before, George always drove. I loved being the passenger. I could look around, discuss interesting observations, knit, read, and enjoy the easy company of sitting next to my husband for six or seven hours.
I’ve had my fill of holiday made for TV movies. The Hallmark channel can rest until next December, as far as I’m concerned. This month has 18 days left of non-stop Christmas time romance and I can’t take it. I know I could change the channel, there are plenty of offerings on Netflix to keep me glued to the couch. But, something happens to my TV remote and the next thing I know, I’m watching the same holiday Hallmark movie I’ve seen 6 times already. What’s wrong with me?
