If only you knew (what it’s really like to write)

Over a dozen of you wrote to me last week to share how much the missive meant to you. Thank you.

As I read message after message, I shook my head and thought, “Wow. If only they knew.”

Then I realized that perhaps it’s right that you DO know.

The morning I wrote that missive, I did not bounce out of bed with a smile.

Like so many other parents in this COVID time, my husband and I have been caring for our baby for 2 months without outside help, while both running our businesses.

We’re thankful to have that option … and also, it has not been easy.

We’ll have more help soon, but the morning I wrote the missive, I felt as though I was running a marathon with no finish line.

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How Breakfast At Tiffany’s Teaches You To Become A Classic Writer ~ Guest Post At Men with Pens

Hello Readers,

Today’s a big day:  I have guest post at Men with Pens! Men with Pens is a well-known team of web designers and writers, committed to “changing businesses (and lives!) through high-end websites that get results.” I’m honored to be posting there, sharing what Breakfast At Tiffany’s has taught me about great writing and great love.

Today’s Post:  How Breakfast At Tiffany’s Teaches You To Become

A Classic Writer

Readers from Men with Pens, Welcome to A Wish Come Clear! To receive your gift from me, I invite you to visit the ‘Subscribe’ field on your right to receive a copy of my book, “Your Creed Of Care: How To Dig For Treasure In People (Without Getting Buried Alive)”.

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Readers, I want to let you know that I’ll be on vacation next week, and as such, I won’t be posting this coming Monday, the 15th, or next Monday, the 22nd. As such, I’m glad to offer you two posts today.

In case you missed it, I had a (second) guest post at Undefinable You earlier this week…

On Power Cords, Power Choices, Adversity + Rising Above

Finally, I want to follow up on Monday’s post, and thank you for your wonderful comments and support.

My dear friend, L’Arche family member and surrogate grandfather Vincent* passed away yesterday morning. He died at home, surrounded by loved ones. (I’m thankful that I was able to say goodbye to him the night before.)

When I think of him now, I remember what he used to say to me when I’d rush and make silly mistakes on routine. Whenever I’d get frustrated with myself, he’d always put me back in perspective by saying, “Don’t worry, dear. I still love ya.”

And now that he’s gone, I still hear him saying that to me. Whenever I get too sad, I think of those simple, beautiful words, and somehow, I am all right.

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*Names have been changed.