Let It Go

Way before Frozen made “Let it Go” an over-sung household mantra, my attempts to let go gave me periodic headaches.

Once I get attached, whether to a person, relationship, activity, or idea, I tend to hang on—even after what others plainly see as the expiration date.

Over the years, I’ve been chided for searching for the pony in the room full of pony-doo, and beating the horse until way after it is dead. There was even a decade when I proudly displayed a “When Life Gives You Lemons” poster, oblivious to the notion that it might be wiser to ditch sour lemons than make lemonade.

So here’s my current dilemma. A couple of years ago, three women a.k.a. “broads” and I decided to start a blog. In creating 4Broadminds, we each had our own goals. Two and a half years later, our goals have been met.

A while back, we asked ourselves whether 4Broadminds had run its course. On some level, I knew it had, but true to form, I found it hard to let go. My 4Broadmind’s posts have helped me soul-search, connect, and recently, been a lifeline in figuring out how to live with cancer. There are definitely more posts churning inside me. I kept asking myself, what happens to them if I let 4Broadminds go?

Then I remembered something a wise person taught me about letting go.

Letting go doesn’t mean I can’t continue to have some version of whatever I'm clutching in my life. When I finally let it go, I make room for something new and different—and maybe even better—to grow in its place.

And so 4Broadminds, it is time to let go.

I’ll miss the camaraderie of co-blogging with Chris, Julie, and Mary. I suspect there's a new blog inside me. It’s still percolating—the ups and downs of everyday life and values, the love and support of family and friends, living with cancer. I’m toying with calling it, Life on Purpose.  

It’s meant so much to get to know you through your comments and to let you get to know me. Your support and encouragement are priceless. Thank you.

Stay tuned for the next chapter.

Love,

Carol

Top Ten Reasons to Be Thankful for Being Bald

Recently, my friend, Tina, reminded me of one of her mother’s many sayings, “You get used to hanging if you hang long enough.”

That got me thinking about how back in July, being bald alarmed me. Five months later, I’m still glad baldness is temporary, but I also see an upside.  

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, here’s my list of The Top Ten Reasons to be Thankful for Being Bald:
10. You save a bundle on shampoo and conditioner.

9.  Month after month, you never have to shave your legs.

8.  No eyelashes to get stuck in your eyes.

7.  You get to laugh out loud when your friend, Dot, recites Fuzzy Wuzzy Was a Bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy Had no Hair!

6.  No jaunts to the hairdresser to choke on nail lacquer or hairspray fumes.

5.  Your annual skin check at the dermatologist is easier when she can actually see your scalp.

4. You never have a bad hair day.

3. No fretting about grays.

2. You can put on your husband’s goofy hair hat, rock the Guy Fieri look, and remember not to take yourself too seriously.

And the # 1 Reason to be Thankful for Being Bald:

This too shall pass. Your hair grows back!

“They” say you don’t always get the hair you had before chemo. Salt-and-pepper might grow back gray and curly might come in straight. I liked the wash-and-wear-just-enough-curl in my old hair, but to show up Fuzzy Wuzzy, I’ll take what I get.

Did I miss anything on my Top Ten Reasons to Be Thankful for Being Bald? And, what’s on your list of things you once dreaded and learned to be thankful for?

P.S. To thank you for stopping by, I’m running a Thanks-Giveaway. Win e-book copies of CAPE MAYBE and PEACE BY PIECE.

Easy to enter:
1.  Follow this link to my Facebook Author Page

2.  Like my Facebook Author Page (on the banner at the top)

3.  Look for the Thanks-Giveaway post and confirm in comments that you liked the page
 
That’s it; 3 simple steps and you are entered. For a bonus entry, share the link on your FB timeline or tweet so your friends can enter too.

What Not to Say to Someone with Cancer

by Carol Fragale Brill

Are you old enough to remember the old Art Linkletter show, “Kids say the Darnedest Things? It turns out, adults do too. Since sharing I have cancer, I have heard some doozies. Maybe it’s that facing someone with an illness or disability unsettles us to the point where we grope for words, or ramble and unintentionally blurt out the not-so-empathetic thing.

Here are some of the “darnedest” things I wish I could un-hear.  

1.    Cancer Stories with unhappy endings - “My (fill in the blank; sister, mother, cousin, neighbor) just DIED from cancer.” Or even worse “Died from the same kind of cancer you have.”

 

I can’t tell you how many times, after hearing I have cancer, the first thing someone tells me is about someone that died. Most of us have at least one personal story about someone who suffered an unpleasant cancer death.

Unless I ask you, this is not a good time to remind me that people die from cancer. If you feel compelled to share, make it a hopeful story about someone who beat the sucker and is cancer-free.  

2.    Chemo Horror Stories. “Do you know how often after chemo, cancer returns with a vengeance?”

 

In what universe does a person in the midst of chemo treatments need to hear cancer and vengeance in the same sentence? The only thing the local store-owner who said this to me accomplished is making me want to avoid him and his store with a vengeance.

Before starting chemo, I was freaked out enough about losing my hair, the possibility of nausea and vomiting, and the long list of other potential side-effects shared by my doctor without being bombarded with unsolicited real-life accounts of organ damage, excruciating mouth sores, fingernails that turned black and fell off, or life-threatening dehydration. There is only so much cancer and chemo horror I can take-in without completely wigging-out. If I want to hear the gory details, trust that when I’m ready I’ll ask you.

And for the record, my experience with chemo isn’t nearly as nasty as those alarming stories. That’s what I’d like someone embarking on their own chemo journey to hear.

3.    The royal “We”. “We will get through this,” “Just six chemo treatments? We can do that.”

On a recent episode of Parenthood, I almost cheered out loud when a character who plays a cancer survivor complained about how much “we” statements bugged her.

Not all “we” statements bother me. I love to hear “we” when you mean you and someone else like, “we are praying,” or “we want to help.”

I know my cancer causes distress to those who care about me. I believe when you say “we” you mean you want to be there and support me. Instead, what I hear is you believe you’re experiencing the same thing as me--that you have as much skin in this game as Jim and me.
“We” can wish it were different. The reality is this cancer is happening inside only my body. That changes my life and Jim’s in ways it doesn’t impact anyone else. There are parts of having cancer I have no choice but to do alone—parts even Jim can’t do for me.

Melissa Etheridge, a cancer survivor, says it poignantly in her beautiful song, “This is Not Goodbye,”  

Where I go now, I go alone.

This path I walk, these days of stone. 

Before using the royal “we” it might help to ask yourself, “How does her cancer change my day to day life?” If you are doing pretty much what you always did, consider ditching the “we.”  

I know no one intends to upset me when they say these darnedest things. Innocent or not, some remarks nearly pushed me over the edge in the early weeks after my diagnosis when I was numb and fragile—when it was nearly impossible for me to hear a sad cancer story and not project the same thing happening to me. While I’m getting better at not agonizing and melting down, there are still things that rattle my hope and that I’d rather not hear. 

This was a hard post for me to write. I don’t know if others with cancer feel the way I do, so in spite of the title, this post is about me with cancer, not we with cancer.

Please share in comments and help me better appreciate and understand the flip-side, What does hearing a person has cancer—or any serious illness or disability—feel and sound like to you? 

And, follow this link to hear Melissa Etheridge’s song, “This is Not Goodbye”

                        https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksihRX4kPtM

When Small Acts of Kindness are HUGE

 

by Carol Fragale Brill

A couple of blogs ago, I wrote about my worry that chemo treatments and losing my hair might make me look sick or unable. I imagined people would gawk at my scarf-wrapped head—or worse, dart their eyes away from me, rendering me invisible. 

Like so often when I wring my hands and project about the future, those worries were a waste of energy and time—teaching me once again that worry is like making loan payments before you get the loan. 

Repeatedly, the small gestures of others have reminded me how the littlest ripple of kindness can grow into a wave. Like the first time I wrapped my head in a “dress-up” scarf and self-consciously ventured out to an upscale restaurant for dinner with Jim. The waiter gushed about how attractive he found “my very stylish scarf.” A seemingly little gesture—for me and my self-esteem, it was absolutely huge.

I can’t tell you how often strangers—mostly women but also a good number of men—go out of their way to make eye contact with me, hold my gaze, and smile in a way that telegraphs encouragement and support.

My favorite example of a stranger’s small act of kindness might be the woman who came up to me in the grocery store, gestured discreetly at my head-wrap and said, “I had that same hairstyle three years ago.” She winked and added, “Don’t worry, it really does grow back.” 

Even more encouraging than her headful of hair was her healthy appearance—living proof that you can kick cancer’s butt.

The concept of small acts of kindness might sound cliché. For me, these little ripples from strangers help normalize a time that often feels anything but normal. And, far from making me feel invisible, they validate my experience and boost my self-esteem.

So what small acts of kindness has someone showed to you? And, what can you do today to start a ripple that churns up a kindness wave?

Bald IS Beautiful

by Carol Fragale Brill

Over the last couple of months, my family and friends have repeatedly reassured me that Bald is Beautiful. While I appreciate the sentiment, I didn't believe them and chalked it up to everyone just being supportive and kind.

And then I saw Joan Lunden's picture on the recent cover of People Magazine.

To say I am in awe and inspired that Joan Lunden bared her head on PEOPLE— a magazine read by an estimated 43 Million+ people and seen my who knows how many more— is a huge understatement.

Asked about her decision she said, "It was such a tough decision. . ."And it wasn’t the comfortable decision — knowing you were going to be seen by everyone in such a vulnerable way — but I know it was the right decision. I knew I could be a voice for a quarter of a million women . . . and I wanted to show that your health is more important than your hair. Your hair grows back after you stop chemo, and then you have your life."

I wonder if in weighing her uncomfortable decision she grappled with all the reasons not to do it—if like me, she came up with a long list of what-ifs and buts.

There’s a saying I learned from my Scottish friends, Bella and Julie that goes something like—if ifs and buts were candy and nuts, every day would be Christmas. The first time I heard that saying, I had no idea what it meant. Now, I think it means we can— and often do— stockpile excuses not to do stuff—especially the hard stuff that forces us to face fears or risk being seen as vulnerable.

Before I actually lost my hair, I was sure I’d keep my head under wraps with everyone but Jim. I can count on one hand the family and friends who have glimpsed it. And, then, Joan Lunden showed the bravery and beauty to let People put her bald head on their cover. I had to ask myself, if she put it out there for the millions who read People, is it time to suck-up the fear and insecurity by doing my small part? 

Unsure and uncomfortable, I talked it over with Jim. He asked me why, after being so private up until now, I’d want to take the risk.

The best answer I have is that the sooner I accept that being bald is part of my life right now, the sooner I take away its power and move on.

 

So, it seems like the best way to honor Joan Lunden’s bravery, is to (gulp) find the guts to follow her lead and do the same thing here.

Learning to FIGHT like a GIRL

                                                    

 by Carol Fragale Brill

Recently, I’ve received a lot of gifts with the slogan, FIGHT like a GIRL. They got me thinking about what FIGHT like a GIRL means to me.

As a little girl, I adored frilly dresses and ribbons and lace on my Easter bonnet, but since my teen years, I’ve never been a girly-girl. I like to look feminine, but I’m not big on accessorizing, elaborate make-up, or perfume wearing. I’m more a touch-of-lipstick-dress-for-comfort-left-over-hippie-sensible-shoes kind of girl.

So, it surprised me when in spite of everyone reassuring me my hair would grow back, my first reaction to learning I’d lose my hair from chemo was, “I have to have a wig, I can’t be seen without hair!” Before my hair even started to fall out, without considering other options, I got myself a wig.

Then someone asked me, “What exactly is it about losing your hair that has you so upset?”

Her question helped me realize my reaction was purely emotional. It’s not really about my hair. It’s about how much I value my healthy independence and determination and that when others look at me I don’t want them to see a hairless, sick, unable person. I want them to see self-reliant, determined ME.

Years ago, I had the privilege of attending a panel discussion about disabilities. One panelist was blind, one deaf, one a paraplegic, and another had speech and motor impairment from muscular dystrophy. Each of them held professional jobs—accountant, librarian, banker, computer technician. Their profound message has stuck with me over the years—Instead of disabled, think of me as DIFFERENTLY ABLED. If it looks like I need help, don't just do it for me, ask me. If I say I don’t need help, respect me and my independence and let me do it myself.”

That pretty much sums up for me what it means to FIGHT like a GIRL.

I am so grateful that my family and friends have offered me all kinds of help and support. For me, Fighting like a GIRL means learning to graciously accept help when I need it. And when I don’t, being able to gracefully say no thank you, I can and need to do that for myself.

It means letting go of female stereotypes, and trusting I can fight this fight from my comfort zone where I feel most like myself.

Fighting like a GIRL means it is okay if some days finding the courage to face the day means letting myself weep in the shower as tufts of my hair clog the drain or if tomorrow I need to take the wig off the Styrofoam head in my closet and wear it to feel my best.

And for today, Fighting like a GIRL means learning to rock the bandana and “pirate” wrap look because they take me back to my not-so-girly-girl roots and remind me I’m still ME.

                                                              

Once Upon a Time in the Land of Chemo

                                           

by Carol Fragale Brill

 

Admittedly facing cancer and chemo is less fairy tale than scary tale. 

And yet. 

A few hours into my first chemo treatment when the nurse asked how I was feeling, I said sleepy and dopey--and instantly thought of Snow White. I pulled out my cell phone and whipped off something like the following email to my family. 

Once upon a time DOC gave me anti-nausea drugs that make me SLEEPY, borderline HAPPY, and just DOPEY enough to not be BASHFUL. The miracle drugs are working and I am so grateful not to be nauseous because that would make me GRUMPY. And, I’m not having an allergic reaction like I did with anesthesia after surgery so Chemo didn’t make me SNEEZY. 

Oh, and did I mention I’m sitting here with my prince? 

While my ditty lacks literary merit, my writer-self coming out to play during my first chemo treatment felt absolutely huge. 

If it were up to me, I’d add a couple more dwarfs to the mix. The first time the nurse put the needle into my access port, I filled up with tears. Not because she hurt me, I barely felt it, but that needle under my skin, made chemo feel more real. So I’d add a dwarf named Weepy. And for balance I’d add Hopeful, because that is how I want to face each day.   

The day before my chemo, I had a networking breakfast with one of my writing mentors, and a writer we’d never met before who wanted to pick our brains. 

The new writer told me he believes the prayer of strangers is very powerful and that he would pray for my recovery. My mentor said, “I’m praying for you too. I’m praying you keep writing.” 

I’m pretty sure he wasn’t talking about a three sentence scary tale. And, yet, I’m guessing when he reads this, it will make him smile.

Life is Like a Box of Crayons

              

Lately, I’ve thought a lot about a conversation I had years ago with a doctor where I worked. He was complaining about some change he didn’t like, and I said something like, “Maybe it would help to think of this as one of those opportunities to learn.”

He glanced at me sideways, and in his gentlemanly southern accent drawled, “You know Carol, at this point in my life, I just don’t think I need another opportunity to learn.”

As I learn to live with cancer, I can really relate.

A recent piece of advice I’m trying to follow is that you can’t have cancer 24 hours a day. When I first heard that it didn’t make sense. Slowly, it’s starting to sink in. I’m still the same happily married me, surrounded by devoted family and supportive friends, a beach addict living in a shore town I love, a writer, coach, and educator who is blessed to do work that fulfills me. Cancer is just one part of me now—it only blots out the rest if I let it.

If you’ve read PEACE BY PIECE, you know there’s a line where Maggie says, “I’ve never had a box of 64 crayons.”

A reader recently told me that after reading that line, she thinks Forrest Gump’s mother might have had it wrong. That instead of chocolates, life is like a box of crayons—full of choices every day to pick the color of our mood.

That feels a lot like another way of saying that I don’t have to have cancer 24 hours a day—that cancer doesn’t have to tint my every waking thought and attitude.

Years ago, after Jim read the line about 64 crayons in a very early draft of PEACE BY PIECE, he bought me a green and yellow box of 96 crayons—equipped with a built-in sharpener. For over a dozen years, that box has sat on my desk reminding me of Jim’s unwavering support. No one ever colors with my crayons, but browsing through the colors often recharges my creative batteries.

 

And, now I have a new way of thinking about the 96 colors in that box. As I learn to live with cancer—one day at a time, one color at a time—I will try to focus on all the shades of gratitude that remind me I’m still me.

After You Hear, "It's Cancer"

Peach Ribbon/Uterine Cancer

by Carol Fragale Brill

It’s been fifty years since my dad died from brain cancer when I was twelve. My rational self knows that over those fifty years, there have been countless advances in cancer treatment—that today, having cancer is not the six-months-to-live death sentence it was when he was diagnosed, and many kinds of cancer are completely curable.

And yet.

After a recent abnormal Pap smear and biopsy, when my doctor said, “It’s cancer,” my rational self went AWOL, and my first terrified thought was, “is this how I’m going to die?”

Fortunately, Jim was with me to reinforce all the positive things the doctor said about catching it early because I take care of myself, get regular physicals and Pap tests, and that this type of cancer is typically curable.

After a few more hours of dark thoughts, a fragile acceptance started to sink in. Amazingly, Jim and I both slept better that night than we had for several days. Having an idea of what we were up against was actually better than the fretful days and sleepless nights of imagining the worst.

We’re in another cycle of waiting now as my surgery gets scheduled, and then we'll wait again for tissue and lymph node biopsy results. I hold on to the assurances from friends, who are cancer survivors, that waiting is the hardest part and that it gets easier once you know the treatment plan.

At some point that first night, I had a brief attack of uncertainty about what I was supposed to do next—put my life on hold, cancel everything on my calendar? Jim and I talked and decided I should do exactly what I would have done before my diagnosis. So the next day, I got up and took a bike ride, showed up for my consulting gig, and spent the late afternoon with Jim reading on the beach.

I knew I’d made the right decision about continuing to “do” my life when a friend who is a breast cancer survivor shared a piece of advice that someone had shared with her: Give cancer every bit of time necessary—and not a minute more.

I wish I could say that those first hours after hearing it's cancer were the only time I melted-down. The truth is dark thoughts lurk just below the surface and pop up at some point almost every day. Sometimes it’s a fleeting thought like when I admire a sundress in a shop window and then wonder if I buy it, will I have a chance to wear it. Or, when I reach for placemats, and instead of the everyday ones, I take out the “good ones” asking myself what am I saving them for?

Most days, I can shake those thoughts off pretty quickly. Sporadically, grief hijacks my thoughts and I wallow in self-pity and project about what-ifs. But even on those days, when I put my day in balance, so far, the fear and sadness are always outweighed by hope.

At first, I wanted to hide my fears to protect my family and friends from feeling afraid too. Then a friend sent me a card that says: Cancer is tough but you’re tougher. I realized I can put my feelings out there and trust that my family and friends and readers are tougher than cancer, too.

Must Read Beach Reads

by Carol Fragale Brill

I am a sucker for a good beach read. Put a beach scene on a book’s cover and you can safely bet I’ll buy it.

Over the years, I’ve lost myself in countless stories about love, friendship, and family dynamics set along a myriad of sandy coastlines. Often these books by popular authors such as Elin Hilderbrand, Karen White, Dorothea Benton Frank, Susan Mallery, and Cassandra King are more guilty pleasure than literature. My favs show realistic women facing day to day ups-and-downs, relationships, love, and loss, and have at least a somewhat happy ending. Their stories engage me while I’m reading them, even though they often run together or slip from my memory a few weeks later.

And, then there is the other kind of beach book—the ones that stay with me—even haunt me—in some memorable way. A book I may have read 10 or 20 years ago that remains on my bookshelf because something made it a book I want to own.  Here are a few of my all-time favorites.

THE SAVING GRACES by Patricia Gaffney - Emma, Rudy, Lee, and Isabel have been best friends for years.  They find salvation in sharing their dreams, complaints, and sorrows with humor, acceptance, and grace, hence their nickname “the Saving Graces.” If you have a BFF you will recognize the Saving Graces.

I read THE SAVING GRACES over 15 years ago when I first started writing PEACE BY PIECE. I was entranced by the intimate friendships, joys, and heartaches of these four friends. THE SAVING GRACES has a special place in my reader heart and on my bookshelf, because in my early days as a writer, I often studied how Ms. Gaffney used details to show the qualities and flaws that make Emma, Rudy, Lee, and Isabel distinguishable and lifelike.  While THE SAVING GRACES falls into the more guilty pleasure than literature category, the tender loyalty these girlfriends share made it memorial for me.

BEACH MUSIC by Pat Conroy - When it comes to gut-wrenchingly depicting the inner turmoil and the anguish of dysfunctional family secrets, especially with a southern flavor, Pat Conroy is the master. BEACH MUSIC is about a father and his young daughter trying to find peace after his wife’s suicide. A complex set of circumstances compel him to return to his roots in South Carolina. Pat Conroy’s imagery and—occasionally over the top—lyrical prose brings the south to life. If you’ve read any of his books, you know he has a special talent for creating complex southern mothers and sympathetic tortured characters that you simultaneously love, cringe from, or at times, want to slap. Pat Conroy’s expressive prose and heart-tugging drama isn’t for the faint of heart. Be ready for an emotional roller-coaster.

THE YEAR OF FOG by Michelle Richmond – A haunting, heartbreaking and hopeful must read.  Abby Mason is taking pictures on a foggy beach with her soon-to-be stepdaughter, when the unthinkable happens. Six-year-old Emma vanishes. Abby‘s guilt consumes her in the weeks following Emma’s disappearance. Well after the police search has died down, she repeatedly retraces that stretch of beach searching for clues. Her single-minded persistence and unwillingness to give up on finding Emma will resonate with anyone who has ever loved someone too much to let them go. This book had me from page one—actually, it had me with once glance at the cover.

Now you know a few of my favorite beach reads, what are some of yours?   

And, here’s a Memorial Day thank you for you. Just in time for the unofficial start of summer, CAPE MAYBE is on sale. Starting today, download your e-copy for just 99¢   Buy Now

This special 99¢ countdown sale price is for a limited time—download now so you don’t miss out. And, share this special with your friends so they can get their on-sale copy, too.

Happy Summer and Happy Reading.
 

Five Truths About Retirement

Carol Brill

Whether retirement is in your rear-view mirror, around the corner, or down the road a piece, I'm guessing the truths I've learned in my first seven weeks of retirement will ring true.

Truth # 1: Don't be fooled when they call retirement a transition.

The literature delicately refers to retirement as a transition. Translated into laymen's terms that means "you are in for a (gulp) major change!" After a career as a (fill in the blank)--H.R. Professional, Teacher, Waitress, Nurse, Account Rep, Coach--you are suddenly not THAT anymore. For me, letting go of an identity I valued and carried for years--even though it was often stressful-- left me feeling a vague, foggy sadness. I finally realized I was grieving. That unsettled me even more until I remembered that  grief is normal when we let go of something we care about. And, more importantly, letting go makes room for something new, and better, to grow.

Truth #2: Retirement brings a new absence of structure that may leave you feeling unmoored.

After 40 plus years of being tied to a job and showing up day after day, it's a dream come true to be free of corporate structure, endless meetings, finicky coworkers, long days, unpredictable commutes, and deadlines. Right?

Like me, you may be surprised when some days the absence of being tethered to a job leaves an uncomfortable gap, or you find yourself missing the security of a routine.

Don't get me wrong, it's wonderful wearing sweats everyday, eating breakfast at a table with Jim instead of scarfing a handful of Cheerios while driving, grocery shopping on Tuesday afternoon when the store is empty, staying home with a fire roaring in the fireplace on snow days.  Still, after years of back-to-back-to-back commitments, a totally blank calendar unnerved me. Scheduling periodic "dates" (that are not doctors appointments) with Jim and friends for lunch, walks, readings, art shows, visits, etc., has added just enough structure to help me feel connected and moored.

Truth #3: Time is different when you are retired.

For years, I belonged to a writing group comprised of a few retired guys and me. Week after week, I'd  show up with a newly drafted 8 or 10 page chapter, while the retired guys might bring a few new pages a couple of times a month. Once, I threw up my hands saying, "I don't understand how you guys don't have time to write. I work a 50+ hour day job and still find time to draft a new chapter every week."

With an insider's grin one of them said, "Time is different when you're retired. You'll see." Turns out, he was right. Time is different. Amazingly, having more time makes me selfishly selective and guarded about how I use it. It's as if my time belongs to me now in a way it never felt like it did before. I don't want to waste it multi-tasking, or over-committing, or pressured to hit deadlines. For the first time in forever, Type A++ over-achiever me relishes being a slacker.

For the last almost 20 years, being on vacation from my "day job" meant being able to be a writer "full-time" for a couple of weeks. Now, I find I want to really be OFF every day and do exactly what I most want to  do, even if that means ignoring my writing day after day to take walks on the beach with Jim. 

Truth #4 Retirement forces you to embrace getting older.

Jim and I have had the good fortune to take Florida winter vacations for enough years, that somewhere along the line, we grew old enough to have snowbird friends we look forward to seeing each March. A few years ago, I was only half-joking when I said to one of my Florida friends, "I have enough friends in Florida, I don't need any more." 

Just a few months later, Barb, my first Florida friend, died suddenly. Over the next 18 months, our circle lost Joe and Dave. When Ned, our friend and the owner of the property we rent, died this year on the day we arrived in Florida, it hit me. Whether in Cape May or Florida, I will never again have enough or too many friends.

My friends' deaths also forced me to accept that one of retirement's not so endearing aspects is that for my contemporaries and me, our line of defense is pretty much gone and we are next up to cross the finish line. Sure, that's the cycle of life, but when it's your team holding that line, it's sobering to realize, you have already lived the majority of your life and are on the back nine.

Truth # 5: Gratitude is a choice.

Meryl Streep says it so eloquently in the quote that opens this post. In retirement, like in all of life, we can choose whether or not to be grateful. We can choose to begrudge what we've given up, regret what we had hoped to accomplish and didn't, pine for the stuff we wanted and never acquired, wallow in missing loved ones. Or, we can hold close the family and friends we still have, relish our memories and keep friendships we've shared and lost alive in our hearts. Don't get me wrong, I know there are losses we never get over. Our difficult choice is whether we succumb completely to regret and sorrow or gratefully embrace life instead.

I'm with Meryl on this one. While, I know I'll continue to grieve and feel sadness, I can still choose to be grateful for each new day.

How about you? Whether retired or not, do you believe gratitude is a choice? And, do any of these truths ring true?

Writing Process

Today’s post peeks into my writing process as part of a blog hop/chain. Since we’re in the midst of the Olympics, you can think of it as one writer passing the “blog torch” to another.

Thank you to Dale Harcombe who passed the torch to me. Dale’s latest novel Streets on a Map published in December 2010, also an E book, has received excellent reviews. You can find some of them on her website www.daleharcombe.com/

As well as fiction, Dale has Kaleidoscope, a published collection of poetry. She also likes to write children’s fiction. Since Chasing after the Wind, she has had 7 children’s novels published. She has run workshops at the NSW Writers Centre, Parramatta Evening College and Central West Community College in poetry and creative writing. She worked for many years as a manuscript assessor and is an avid reader and book reviewer. Find Dale at:
Author Site: www.daleharcombe.com
Blog; Write and Read with Dale http://www.livejournal.com/users/oran...
Goodreads page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...

Here is what Dale asked me to share about my writing process. 

1) What am I working on?

For over a year, my writing time has been devoted to blogging, editing, and learning to publish PEACE BY PIECE and CAPE MAYBE. Now, I’m trying to master the marketing ropes while finding a balance between the business side of publishing and still having time to write.

I have been thrilled and humbled—and truthfully a bit overwhelmed—by the number of readers who have asked for sequels to PEACE BY PIECE and CAPE MAYBE. While I haven’t committed to a sequel, the seeds of a story are starting to percolate in my over-crowded-head.

It’s too early to say much about it, but I would love to hear your thoughts about a story that combines characters from both novels—essentially, one novel that is a sequel to both.

I’m also toying with two other writing projects—writing the children’s book about Frangelica, the colorful flounder Maggie imagines in PEACE BY PIECE and starting a new blog about eating disorders that could grow into a non-fiction book.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?

The best way to respond might be to share snippets from readers’ reviews:

PEACE BY PIECE

“Her characters reveal themselves through a myriad of small, delicious details-- Maggie wonders if a cream-colored skirt makes her hips look big; Maggie’s mother blots a teabag and puts it away for a second use . . .”

“Marvelous job of getting inside the head of someone suffering from anorexia/bulimia. But the story is about more than that.”

CAPE MAYBE

“A young girl growing up in the shadow of her mother's alcoholism and mental illness is tender, honest, and real.”

In PEACE BY PIECE, Maggie is anorexic and bulimic. In CAPE MAYBE, Katie faces alcoholism. In real life, woman who struggle with addictions are not simply addicts—they are daughters, mothers, wives, and friends with a lifetime of people they love who care about them. I wanted readers to relate to Maggie and Katie and recognize that addiction is only one piece of their stories. 

3) Why do I write what I do?

I’m an avid reader and my favorite genre is contemporary women’s fiction—recognizable women facing real every day relationships, desires, and worries. When I started writing PEACE BY PIECE, I thought women were ready for a realistic female character dealing with the same challenges they face—love lost and found, friendships, step-parenting—and who also happens to have an eating disorder.

With CAPE MAYBE, I wanted to accurately depict the chaos and daily realities of growing up with an alcoholic parent and also convey the power of creating your own second chances and hope.

4) How does my writing process work?

Morning has always been my best writing time and you will often find me at my computer in the dark hours before the sun is up rereading and editing what I most recently wrote.

Before starting a new piece, I spend a lot of time in my head, envisioning the beginning and ending. For longer pieces, I write character bibles. Once I start writing, the characters reveal the middle to me, sometimes scene by scene. Other times, huge chucks of the character’s motivation emerge and it takes many chapters for me and the writing to catch up. 

So what are your thought and questions about my writing process? If you’ve read PEACE BY PIECE and CAPE MAYBE, I hope you’ll comment about my idea for a combined sequel mentioned in question # 1.  

Now it’s time for me to pass the “blog torch” and introduce you to a few more writers and their books.

Please follow the blog hop and visit the authors highlighted here.

J. H. Cardwell - Julie's long-time passion, writing, is fueled by her mounds of experience both personally and professionally in the medical field, first as a Cardiac Specialty Nurse, and over the last decade as a pharmaceutical and medical sales representative.  After years of power points in the corporate world, she has published her first romantic suspense novels, the Attainment Series. Attainment hit the top ranked status for romance fiction and Atonement landed in the top 100 books on Amazon. She’s also working on her first stand-alone novel, Identical Dream, due out 2014. Julie resides in a small town in NC with her husband and four children. She continues working full time in sales, exploring her writing late at night and in the wee hours of the morning when her children are tucked safely in bed. 

www.jhcardwell.com

www.facebook.com/jhcardwell

https://www.goodreads.com/JHCardwell

http://jhcardwell.blogspot.com/

Amazon

Lori Duff
is a popular humor Blogger for the Patch and various Your Local News, Inc. outlets, including the Monroe Local and the Grayson Local. She also writes a more serious column about law stuff for Your Local News. By day, she is the managing law partner of Jones& Duff, LLC and wages war for a living. She prefers making people laugh.
Lori is married to her husband of 15 years, Mike, and together they have two children, Jacob and Marin. Mike, Jacob, and Marin are good sports about having embarrassing stuff written about them all the time.
I can be found at:

https://www.facebook.com/loribduffauthor

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7544435.Lori_B_Duff

http://www.amazon.com/Mismatched-Shoes-Upside-Down-Pizza-ebook/dp/B00H9351NW/

https://www.createspace.com/4570952

http://loganville.patch.com/blogs/lori-duffs-blog?content_subdomain=loganville

http://monroelocal.org/author/lduff/

http://www.jonesandduff.com

Uvi Poznansky is a California-based author, poet and artist. “I paint with my pen,” she says, “and write with my paintbrush.” She received a Fellowship grant and a Teaching Assistantship from the Architecture department at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, where she earned her M.A. in Architecture. Then, taking a sharp turn in her education, she earned her M.S. degree in Computer Science from the University of Michigan. Uvi writes across a variety of genres: Apart From Love (contemporary fiction, Rise to Power (historical fiction, A Favorite Son (biblical fiction), Home (poetry), Twisted (fantasy) Now I Am Paper (children’s book) and Jess and Wiggle (children’s book.)

http://uviart.blogspot.com   

http://www.facebook.com/uviart

https://twitter.com/UviPoznansky

http://www.amazon.com/Uvi-Poznansky/e/B006WW4ZFG/

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5758946.Uvi_Poznansky

Book Links:

RISE TO POWER

♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/098499324X   ♥ Ebook ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00H6PMZ0U 

A FAVORITE SON

♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/0984993258  ♥ Ebook ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00AUZ3LGU

♥ Audio ♥ http://tinyurl.com/fvort-a

HOME

♥ Ebook ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y  ♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/0984993231

♥ Audio ♥ http://tinyurl.com/Home-audible 

APART FROM LOVE

♥ Ebook ♥ http://BookShow.me/B006WPITP0  ♥ Audio ♥ http://tinyurl.com/aprtl-a

♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/0984993207

TWISTED

♥ Audio ♥ http://tinyurl.com/Twisted-audio  ♥ Ebook ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00D7Q3IY4

♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/0984993266

Children books:

♥ Now I Am Paper ♥ http://bookshow.me/1494919427  ♥ Jess and Wiggle ♥ http://bookshow.me/1494920964