Monday Musings,late-Worth More Than Money

The older I get, the more I know the truth of what I wrote in the column below. People are worth far more than material gain. Ask the lonely, the forgotten persons who sit home, wishing just to be able to exchange a few words with someone, anyone. Maybe this explains the great growth of various and sundry online groups, from support groups to dating sites. How fortunate and blessed I count myself to be that I may count dozens of people as friends. Some of many years standing. True, many are acquaintances not seen on a regular basis, but many I do see often. If you know someone who needs a friend, why not be that friend? I know I must do better at following my own advice >

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If I should someday make a lot of money from my writing, the money would not be what I'd value most about my adventures along that path. It would be the friends I've made. Without them, I probably would have given up long ago.

Before the flesh-and-blood writing colleagues who walk and stumble along with me, there were those I've never met in person. Like most who dream of seeing their scribblings in print, I huddled at home over typewriter and later computer, reluctant to expose my dreams to the light of day.

Then this wonderful medium of communication called the personal computer came upon the common scene. The first computers were only available to companies and could do the work of many warm bodies. Not so good. As a matter of fact they had a negative impact on my own job situation. But I fell in love with them anyway and when personal computers became available I had to have one. And then a whole new medium called the Internet sprang up, with instant connections to almost anywhere on the globe.

This included the ability for a writer to expose his or her writing to others with almost immediate feedback. You didn't have to wait weeks or months to be rejected by an editor at your target market. Classes and critique groups were, and are, also available to learn more in your chosen field of writing. I am so grateful for this exposure to online writers and teachers. Their acceptance gave me the courage to seek out flesh-and-blood writers to interact with in person.

A writing career is still about as easy as herding cats. You get tired of the battle and a voice whispers, 'Why don't you just give up.' That's when friends come in and encourage or push you along. I prefer to sit home and stare at the computer even knowing I should get out, talk, try to sell books. Two of those friends called and got me into two venues I'd never done, which I actually enjoyed. Even sold a couple of books. And made connections with new writers. Those friends didn't know what they'd done for me. But I do.

Monday Musings-Know Your Dream

The below column was written some months after my life had begun to reknit into whatever it might become as I adjusted to widowhood. So many people just kind of give up after a major loss and they encounter the need to fashion a different life. I like to remember and quote something I read long ago and have no idea who said it. Whoever it was, I thank them. "Don't cry ('...for too long', as a sweet cousin we recently lost wrote in a letter to her family.) because it ended, smile because it happened."

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     Hold On Tight to Your Dreams

Better advice in a song was never given. When the Electric Light Orchestra first recorded their song my life was so full I barely remember hearing it. About ten years ago I re-discovered it. A few years down life’s road waited an event, my husband’s major stroke/cerebral hemorrhage, which signaled the beginning of the end of something that had defined my life since I was nineteen, marriage.
     My marriage had included dreams, also, though most were shared dreams that God graciously granted. A peaceful home, a beautiful daughter, a grandson to be proud of, loving families and many dear friends.
     But in my heart I cherished dreams that were mine alone. Like most people, I had doubts those dreams would ever come to fruition. But I learned, as many people have, that once I stepped out and made a few efforts God, or the Universe, depending on your persuasion, set events in motion to bring them to pass. 
     One long-held dream was that I would be a published author, accepted and active with other writers in writers groups. The adage that we should be careful what we wish for comes to mind, but that’s another story. After I began seriously submitting my work I had stories accepted in print and online, wrote and published a couple of books.
     A few months before my husband’s death I achieved another goal I’d studied for off and on for several years. I took and passed the exam for my amateur radio operator license and am now a member of a local amateur radio club. My call sign – KJ4WJL.
     Since I first began seriously marketing my work, I had kept one dream close, to become a regular newspaper columnist. No editor was even slightly interested the few times I mustered up the nerve to pitch my ideas. But this year, twelve months into widowhood, that dream, too, has been realized in the column you’re now reading.
     After the anguish of three years watching my husband weaken and decline until his battle was finally over, these personal achievements gave me a stable place to stand and regroup when my world crumbled. I think he would be proud because he was my biggest supporter in all my attempts  to achieve my dreams.
     I’d love to hear from anyone else who has pursued his or her dream. If not, why not? To my mind no one is too old to go for a dream.

Ends and Beginnings

I kind of dreaded this day before it got here. Then the week-long winter storm just before it kind of distracted me. But now it's here. The fifth anniversary of the fourth major event in my life that brought a totally new landscape to it. The first was marriage, of course, the second, motherhood and third, becoming a grandmother when my daughter's son was born. Then five years ago the fourth event, when my husband of more than fifty years left me and this world. It was not unexpected. He'd fought the good fight for almost three years, trying to come back from a major stroke. But he regained negligible use of the left side of his body and both mind and body slowly deteriorated. By the end, he sometimes knew me, but hardly anyone else. Watching the slow sinking of this shell of the strong, full-of-life young man I'd married was hard.
Now carrying the everyday responsibilities of life alone was permanent. I knew I was and am a strong woman, and my husband had never hindered me from becoming stronger through the years. But I was still a little surprised at how hard I was hit, and the amount of time needed to regain my equilibrium.
A somewhat unexpected fifth event helped me during the months prior to and after my husband's death. The birth of a precious great grandson. And now there are two, and the goal of being around to watch them grow up, in addition to personal achievement goals, keeps me looking forward to each day. Who knew such joy could come following the end of a big part of one's life.