2023 and 2024 were the most heart wrenching and devastating years I have endured. These were also the years that brought me back to my true passion in life: writing.

2023: The company I was employed by, for the majority of my working career, closed. Not only did I lose my job, I lost my self esteem. I was 50 years old. The mere prospect of finding a new career was more than overwhelming – it was terrifying.

2024: My best friend moved back home after a few years of living states away. I was ecstatic, but that feeling was short lived. After a few months of being home, she suffered a fatal and unexpected heart attack. To be quite honest, I don’t believe I will ever recover from that loss.

To say I was reeling from those moments is a poor choice of words. I have been writing since I was capable of putting words on paper. I have written poetry, short stories, plays (elementary school ambition) and attempted some children’s books. I didn’t have the dedication to really apply myself to the craft; nor did I have a large cheering section. What I did have were a lot of naysayers and criticism from well to doers. I would like to think that I just couldn’t muster the confidence from within. I let people dull my shine. Fortunately, I never stopped writing, I just stopped writing for the joy of it.

My best friend of 37 years never gave up on me – when I was unemployed and flailing in a sea of self pity, she told me to write about it. Write I did! But it was undisciplined and messy. The ideas were there, yet I was too consumed with all my ‘woe is me’ excuses. The writing was shit. No sugar coating, it was not good. I tinkered around with some stories, but my voice was feeble . Then I started this blog, but let it stagnate. I drifted, my little boat of words floated further away from shore.

May 13th of 2024, the worst day of my life happened. I had a strange premonition that day, my mood was dark. Near the end of the day, I heard someone knocking at the door. I opened it to see my best friends husband was standing on the sidewalk. I made some off-the-cuff remark about him losing her, since I didn’t see her standing with him. The look on his face after I uttered those words will be forever etched in my mind. I remember hearing deep guttural sounds, and those sounds were coming from me. You never expect to receive that news; then again, you never know how to accept that news, either.

My goal is to write a book about the grief of losing your best friend. I have found there aren’t a lot of self helps out there on that subject. It has been one of the hardest projects for me to start. I’m not sure when I will manage to get those words out. They will come, when they are ready.

In the meantime, I have other writing projects in the works. I have this blog, I have content writing for my current job. I have collaboration projects with another dear friend, who is coming into his writing chops. I have encouragement from my husband. Most of all, I have listened. Listened to my own voice, and it is saying: Now. For the first time, I am giving that voice the attention it deserves.

So welcome back, or welcome if you’re new! Let’s see where the adventure takes us…