October marks the anniversary of me becoming a true writer. I have wanted be an author since 2nd grade where I got to publish my very first book, “The Very Big Problem.” Okay, so it wasn’t in house publishing, more like my teacher gathered up my pages of my so called plot and my scribbles called art and laminated it. To her credit, it even had a plastic spine on the side!
It wasn’t my best piece, but the one who spurred on the idea of becoming an author was my late Grandma, Esther. I remember proudly giving her my pathetic book. She held it like it was gold. She carefully read through each page with great interest. She oohed. She aahed. She made me feel like I was truly gifted.
Being a plain Jane wall flower, I was content fading into the background. I never saw anything significant about me. My sister and I still razz each other about the movie “A League of Their Own”, where the two sister’s are bickering about how the oldest sister was named “Dottie,” while the younger sister felt everyone had referred to her as “Dottie’s sister.” Oddly, both of us felt we were Dottie’s sister and not actually Dottie.
I never really felt outstanding in anything. In college, my favorite was English. I loved the creativity of writing. You could make your stories radiant and unique, nothing of which I identified with. So when the class was done, I put away my writing pen (gasp, I actually used a pen and not a computer!) and closed my book.
After our second child was in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) my husband and I were living off of prayers. However this was back before cell phones were all the rage, and we actually had to use a pay phone (so gross). It was really difficult trying to keep everyone in the loop while digging around for loose change to give updates. We were approached with a new idea from the hospital, The Carepages. I had no how revolutionary the idea was.
There was only one computer in the whole NICU and being that my son’s prognosis wasn’t good, I didn’t want to miss a second. I believe Seth started the pages, but after a few times he dropped it in my lap. What I didn’t know was he had given me a gift. I started my love affair with writing. Behind the computer screen and clacking keys, I was able to let all my insecurities go and just share my heart.
I wrote pretty much daily for the first 4 months, being that Seth and I had practically moved into the hospital to be with Elijah. Each day presented details we never thought we would be dealing with. We reported the doctors words each day, accompanied with dialysis updates, blood gases, BP #’s, surgery updates, but most importantly the gift of sharing G-d’s miracles through our son Elijah Praise. Let me pause a moment to gather myself.
Through the Carepages we were able to engage prayer warriors all around the world for our little guy. I was able to describe his sounds, smells, his personality with such crafted care. I am so thankful to Carepages, because since he has passed away, I can look back on what I wrote and see G-d’s finger prints all over his life. He would be 11 on September 30th of this year.
Writing became my therapy through his life, his death, my grief, and later even my battle for my life. I abruptly stopped writing months ago. I needed to reboot and remember why I am writing. I want to be intentional with each post and not just blog to blab. I wanted to be real, but with G-d’s purpose in mind.
So, here we are. Brand new blog space and plenty of things to write about. I dedicate all my posts to G-d my Father. He has blessed me so greatly. Even when I gave up on life, He never gave up on me. Blessed be the name of the Lord, because He gives and He takes away. No matter what, Blessed be His name.