Category: Autobiographical

Total 20 Posts

Inspiration

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She stood awhile waiting at the edge, watching for him, and praying it wasn’t too late.” – Mistress of the Seas (in progress)

Writers often work in solitude. It’s a given. A mug of coffee, a loving pet by your side, and a vision of a story floating on the recesses of your mind. Where does it come from?

When I look over my earlier writings, I chose what interests me. Angels among us is something I’ve come to believe. Since childhood when I first learned of guardian angels, I felt the existence of ethereal beings deemed by a Creator to assist and work among us. A de javu experience in the ancient ruins of Mexico City and experiences in meditations convinced me of the notion of reincarnation then led to writing about lovers who came together after a lifetime centuries earlier. Ghosts are believed real by many of us. Believing in the possibility led to my writing about it in two young adult books and a short story. The journey and adventures of American pioneers led to my writing about a headstrong couple in Wildflowers, a book set along the Oregon Trail during the 1840’s.

Yet, there is more here. Characters call to me from their world, tell me their problems, and lead to the writing of their stories. It sounds strange, but once I start to write a story down, it generally takes form if I am willing to allow it to. When I tell people that I write fiction, they sometimes tell me that they could write a book. I challenge them to do so. It’s never easy, but it takes more than imagination, it takes endurance, perseverance, and being open.

A photograph, a work of art, the lyrics of a song, a story passed down through generations, a discovery on a trip, other works of other authors can generate ideas. I also believe in a Creator, much greater than I, who benefits all life and instills in us the power to create. I am forever grateful to that Creator.

Summertime and the living is easy … or so they say

Summertime always manages to fly by. Perhaps due to the progression of the years, or being super busy, or doing the need to catch up things at home, but before I know it, it’s another Labor Day weekend.

From the bittersweetness of youth, I recall with fondness the feeling of freedom come July, the barbeques, the beach time, and time to spend with family and friends which I might not have otherwise. Summer comes and summer goes, and season follows season.

This summer in particular had its ups and downs. I did manage to clean out a few closets, read some wonderful books, write (a little bit more), and get to the gym (when I could). The high points being time with family, near and far, a visit to cousins in Ireland, a trip to family in Oklahoma, and the gathering with friends. I will carry those sweet memories with me into the cooling days of autumn. A road tour around the lovely picturesque towns in Cornwall, England which included a tour of the film setting for my beloved BBC show Doc Martin offered an opportunity to learn a bit more of British culture and history. The low point came with the death of my beloved dog Murphy. He had been in our family for eleven years, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. Summer had always been our quality time with trips to the parks and longer walks at sunset.

Soon it will be time to pack away the beach bag, the travel totes, and gear up for a busy autumn. Like the myriad photos captured by my phone’s camera, memories will be there for me to reflect upon and remind me that summer does return.

Murphy

Murphy celebrated his birthday on April 1st.

… more than a pet

He came to us as an eight week old rescue, a mixed Black Labrador retriever, and a “replacement” pet for Maxi, the Yellow Labrador who died months earlier. I resisted getting another dog until a co-worker, animal lover herself, who noticed how much I grieved over Maxi, kept hounding me to get a dog. I felt that if I do get another dog, it would be a mixed breed but mostly Labrador and a puppy. I also wanted to rescue a dog.

So, in the Spring of 2008, I began to search websites, pet adoption days at Petco and other places, and still no dog. I came across an ad for a Black Labrador retriever, and within a week, I found our puppy through a dog rescue in Lyndhurst, New Jersey.

Murphy came to us in June 2008. He had been a rescue from somewhere in North Carolina, emaciated, and filled with worms. We took him in, got him healthier, and he thrived with a bit of TLC.

Although initially we took him for training at the Petco obedience dog training school, it was Murphy who “trained us”. Over the years, eleven of them, we bonded with Murphy. He also gave us a lot of love, loyalty, laughter, and purpose. In addition, he welcomed everyone to our home even if they didn’t like dogs as much as we did.

This month we learned that Murphy’s time with us would soon end. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer. It had spread from his liver to his lungs, and there was nothing the vets could do to save him. We had to bid our final and sad farewell to him at the animal hospital. I experienced a similar pain of grief with my last dog, Maxi, and it is never easy.

Now I understand why people have so-called therapy dogs or cats or parrots or whatever. They provide so much — unconditional love, companionship, and protection — they truly are therapy.

I will miss you, Murphy! May you rest in peace!

Walking most evenings with Murphy was a pleasure.