A special thankfulness this year.

I’m writing this on Thanksgiving morning, as I sit alone in the kitchen enjoying my coffee. It’s before Michael is awake and before Matt, our older son, comes over and we hop in the car to drive to Boston to spend Thanksgiving with Steve, our younger son.

I wasn’t going to write about Thanksgiving, but, well, maybe the spirit of the day has moved me. Or maybe it’s my special thankfulness today that has inspired me to conclude:

How can I not write? 

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I've cut back on blogging. Have you missed me?

I’ve cut back on blogging to focus on one specific human interest story:  the story of my memoir. 

When I do post, it will be much more personal than my previous blogs, and that scares me. But if I’m going to put my memoir out into the world, I’d better get used to it, right?


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What I’ve learned in a year of blogging

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On October 13, 2016, with a deep breath, a prayer, and a mix of trepidation and pride, I hit “publish,” sending my first blog out into the great beyond.

Blogosphere, here I come. 

I’ve written 48 posts since then. It’s been the hardest professional challenge I’ve faced and there’s no paycheck on Fridays. The compensation has been in personal growth. I could fill a book, but instead I’ll give you some snippets on what I’ve learned:

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The muses in my head.

I recently had the pleasure of meeting my writing muses—my sources of (or against) inspiration. They’re distinct voices in my head which I didn’t know existed until they revealed themselves to me one at a time.

Don’t worry, I don’t need to call my therapist. 

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Keep your eyes open to the little things. Avoiding a thankless marriage.

Years ago, I sat across a table from my new husband as we enjoyed a night out on our honeymoon. As we waited for our food to arrive, the wait staff appeared, singing Happy Anniversary, and delivered a cake with a single flaming candle to the couple at the next table.

Michael and I looked at each other with wide-eyed awe and said, almost in unison, “Wow. A whole year.”

It was hard to fathom being married for a year. Now, it’s been 35.

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