Writing is a process.
Beginning in the first grade, I was an avid reader. Not only did I seek adventure in books, but I looked diligently for any reference to God. I was hungry to hear conversations between God and the characters. There is and always has been an inner curiosity to know how God works in people’s lives and in my life.
Sometimes my reading, especially horse books, got me into trouble. When I was in the 6th grade, the teacher used to have us do round-robin reading of the text books. Each student would read one paragraph out-loud, and when he was done the next student would read the following paragraph. I would count how many students were before me, count down that many paragraphs and mark it so I would be ready when it was my turn. I then proceeded to lose myself in another exciting “Black Stallion” novel by Walter Farley. Unfortunately, my dad, who was the principal at the time, came into the room and stood behind me. Whoops! No more fun reading during class!
When I was 14, sitting in math class, I remember distinctly, God telling me to begin writing. “What?” I questioned. Of course, math was my worse subject so who knows if I was daydreaming or God was really tapping me on the shoulder. So, after two weeks of procrastination, I began keeping a journal, a practice I’ve kept for over 40 years.
I began writing seriously in the later 90’s and published my first children’s book, The Wall They Could Not See, in 2007. I followed that up with Burl Groundhog Has Enemies in 2011. After a nineteen-year process, I finally completed my first middle-grade novel, Alexandria in 2016, Finding the Chrysalis Kingdom in 2017 and Calling all Streams in 2018. Little did I know when I started with Katherine in 2012, that I was about to write something entirely different over the course of the next six years. Suddenly, I stepped into a new world when I became a caregiver for a lady in the beginning stages of Lewy Body Dementia.
My caregiving experience with Katherine was new and exciting. Having never experienced this disease first hand, I wasn’t sure what to expect as it progressed. I found myself grappling with questions about how to handle memory loss and how to connect with Katherine as the disease reached advanced stages.
I imagined walking in her shoes. I imagined what it was like to look at people and not recognize them, or to look at letters and not understand the words they formed. What was that like? What could someone say to me to make me feel safe and secure? And so, I became Katherine’s caregiver putting her physical and emotional needs before my own. We connected and a bond of trust and love formed between us.
Through this experience, I once again felt the call to write, but this time it was different. This time I knew I had to share what I had learned through care giving to help other people find joy through progressive stages of loss.
