The Gold Medal goes to…

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books, Life, relationships, teenagers, writing

J.D. Salinger averaged 20 words a day to finish his 73,000-word classic The Catcher in the Rye over a 10-year span. My novel took six years to get from a legal pad into a binding.

Much of that time was spent sitting alone in front of my computer. On good days, I wondered how a book could be so easy to write. On other days, I struggled – week by agonizing week – wondering if it was worth the fight. Every book has its journey, which may take a month, a year, or even a lifetime.

Probably because they spend so much time alone, authors value recognition from their peers. At the Florida Authors and Publishers Association 2017 President’s Book Awards ceremony, the goodwill was palpable. Winners had been notified that we were finalists in the competition, so when the bronze medal in the Young Adult category was announced, I prepared to stand. I did the same when the silver medal was announced. That’s when I began to fear I’d been notified in error. (I didn’t even hear my name called as the gold medal was announced.) Fortunately, I DID see a six-foot picture of my book cover flash on stage, so I stood and walked toward it.

Turns out that E. B. White, author of Charlotte’s Web, was quite right when he said, “It is deeply satisfying to win a prize in front of a lot of people.”

Sore today, strong tomorrow

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Health, Humor, injuries, inspiration, Life, physical therapy, relationships

My physical therapist wears a shirt that reads, “Suck it up, buttercup.”

I’ve been seeing a lot of her since I had surgery to repair a torn rotator cuff.  She appears sympathetic during each hour-long torture session (most serial killers do – it’s the secret of their success.)

However, the camaraderie among other victims – er, patients – surprises me. When our eyes meet, there’s a smile, a nod, or murmur of encouragement. During brief moments of rest, I’ve had people lean over and ask, “How did it happen?” or “Did you have surgery?”

Simple gestures, yet when you’re in pain and feeling frustrated, encouragement from strangers in the same boat is comforting. Our injuries may be diverse, but our goals are clear and compelling: to be pain-free and able to move with a full range of motion.

The prospect of meeting these folks again one day in Starbucks or the grocery store (anywhere but physical therapy) appeals to me. Our shared experience creates a kind of fraternity, though our initiations were vastly different.

Our motto: It really will get better every day.

Keep those cards and letters coming

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Community, Family, Life, love, Memories

In the days of cell phones, email and text messages, letter writing can seem hopelessly outdated. My son recently informed me of his refusal to support the greeting card industry so I should not expect a Mother’s Day card.
Fortunately, I’ve saved a drawer full of handwritten notes from him as well as from his sister:
“Mom, I feel like lately we’ve gotten to be really close and I can talk to you about almost anything.”

To their father:

“I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have you as my dad. I hope you can come and visit me often in Chicago.”

I have no idea how to convey to my child that writing and receiving letters will always offer an experience that modern technology cannot touch. Twitter is fine for broadcasting what you’re eating for lunch, and email is fantastic for quick exchanges of pertinent information. But when it comes to sharing your true thoughts, sincere sympathies, ardent love, and deepest gratitude, words traveling along an invisible superhighway will never suffice. Why?

The impact of handwritten cards and letters lasts far longer than any text or email offered in our high-tech world. Years after they are written and sent (and even after their senders and receivers are gone), letters remain to be read, appreciated and preserved. I love seeing the familiar handwriting of my late grandmother and grandfather on old documents. Letters protect our memories in a way that technological communication cannot. They are tangible, personal and real, in every sense of the word.

Computers and smart phones may prove more efficient, but they can never take the place of this kind of sentimental history.

Letters create lasting memories.

 

 

Look for inspirational home ideas in her book, “Sweet Beams: Inspiring everyone who lives under a new roof,” available on amazon.com

The challenge of downsizing

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aging, children, Community, Family, Home, Houses, Life, lifestyle, thoughts

If you read the definition of “Down·size  (doun’siz’)” in the dictionary, it sounds easy: To reduce in number or size. To simplify (one’s life, for instance), as by reducing the number of one’s possessions. To become smaller in size by reductions in personnel or assets.
But for me, “downsize” means both a logistical and emotional challenge. It isn’t simply about getting rid of physical things: It’s also about releasing the emotional attachment that comes with them.
It recently took an entire month for me to move from one house to another. Children’s report cards, letters and photos require sorting and savoring. Friends who sell large homes and move to smaller ones appear equally unable (or unwilling) to dispose of their memories. We’re all saddened by adult children who are dismissive of childhood trophies and memorabilia that don’t blend with their current decorating scheme. We know one day, they will regret it.
When my friends ask, I offer one piece of advice: Get outside help.
I turned to my sister when the reality of needing to downsize finally settled in. A pragmatist, she honed her skills with a move to Brussels, Belgium followed by the sale of a large home in McLean, Virginia before downsizing to a townhouse in Annapolis, Maryland.
She ruthlessly attacked my closets and garage with the empathy of an avenging warlord.
Guided by the mantra, “When in doubt, throw it out,” we packed 14 carloads of household items and clothing – including my 1977 boxed wedding gown – and donated everything to the Neighborhood Center of West Volusia County. (The organization provides emergency and transitional housing for families in need.)
When we were finished, I felt no regrets – only relief. Actually, I felt a bit of satisfaction, too: The manager of The Neighborhood Center thrift store confided that our donations had boosted their revenues for more than a month!

In this case, less is definitely more.

Check out Renee’s book, “Sweet Beams: Inspiring Everyone Who Lives Under a New Roof,” available on amazon.com