November 9, 2026
A lifetime of dreams didn’t prepare me for this week. Seven decades of prewriting did. That’s a little excessive, even for me. All those years of living, learning, loving, losing, and finding my way have somehow distilled down to one date. 11/11/2026. My angel day. The day I will become a published author.
Let me make something quite clear. I didn’t study writing in some high-and-mighty university, learning to tuck every sentence into a proper little box. I’ve never been good at hiding what I mean behind the politically acceptable words of the day. I will always speak in my own unique voice. The one that makes me smile as I remember stories that need telling. Sometimes a little too honestly, depending on whom you ask.
So many times, the Goddess of the Central Coast would text me after reading a blog. “Should you have said that?” “Check your grammar.” “What would your grandmother say?” “Some things shouldn’t be shared.” For her, those cautionary words made perfect sense. She would have said some things differently and kept others to herself. But she kept reading. And I kept writing.
We each have our own way of telling a story. Mine has carried me through some very difficult mornings and into a life never imagined. I want my words to accurately represent the woman who lived it.
As a writer, I hope my new book (did I tell you it’s coming out Wednesday?) helps at least one widow. The former me that sat alone on an anniversary or birthday, wondering whether life would ever carry on. I was someone who couldn’t imagine making plans, meeting a new friend, or getting excited about anything again. I remember being her.
For me, life began opening up as I found ways to move forward. Small ways at first. Things I could manage with the strength I had that day. Sometimes I needed to rest before trying again. But I kept trying.
At the end of the day, I’m an ordinary seventy-year-old woman. Courageous? Yes. God-loving? Yes. A little wacky? Well, there’s that, too. But nothing superhuman.
In the months when my widow’s fog began to lift, I understood something about the life still ahead of me. I had more days to live, and I wanted those days to hold something beyond the walls of a house where I sat alone. My life would include gardens. So, I bought seeds. It would include fun. So, I made plans and carried them out.
It would include the love of new friends. That meant making room for friends, while letting them come to know me. And eventually, it would include a partner for my autumn years. Someone with whom to share the life I was learning to enjoy again. With God’s blessings, those things came true, one by one. One foot in front of the other.
Looking back from this Monday morning, I can see how much happened in all those little steps. At the time, I couldn’t see where they were taking me. I was simply living the next day, making the next decision, and finding another story to tell you. Now, some of those memories are gathered into Widow: A Journey Toward Life.
On Wednesday, November 11, they will be available in hardback, paperback, and e-book. My words will go places I may never visit and reach people I will never meet.
I hope they meet the widow there, recognizing a little of themselves on the pages, while feeling less alone. Perhaps they will begin to see good things waiting in their own life, even if they cannot yet see what it might be. That’s what I want this book to hold for others.
And now, here we are. A lifetime of dreams didn’t prepare me for this week. Nothing could have. I’m going to enjoy every single second. Don’t worry. I’ll be right here to tell you all about it.
