In 1998 I decided I wanted to be a writer. I told my husband this revelation. He said, "Um, no offense but didn't you flunk out of high school English?" To which I replied "….so I don't know the prepositions…I know them now. I don't need to be able to dissect a sentence to write. I can talk. I can write." And so I did. I began writing.
I wrote employment articles. One got picked up in a magazine. It was high color, very classy. Never mind that it was for an air conditioning company. I didn't care. I liked the way it looked. I started submitting my articles to local newspapers. I got nada. Then I decided they must not like the topic so I figured, I was a stay at home mom…I would writing about parenting. Everyone always commented on how well behaved my kids were. I wrote one article and submitted it to the local paper, The San Tan Monthly. When the paper came out, I opened it up and there was my article! I was so excited. I had the encouragement I needed.
I submitted a family photo with the next artilce. They published it. I told the editor I wanted to call my "column" (yes I just created a column for myself), I wanted to call it, Life with all these Kids
After a year or so, my articles started to be picked up by the Arizona Republic and they actually paid me $100 per article. That was the same time I went to work in real estate and I let my little writing gig go. I turned to writing websites and making money in real estate.
I always wanted to write a parenting book. Why didn't I? Well, the biggest reason was my parenting of Phil. Phil was hard for me. I didn't know how to parent him. He chose his own path. We always had this strong bond and told each other how much we loved each other but there was always this sadness between us. It was like there was this big gap between where he was as a little guy to where he had gone as a teenager. He felt it too. Like we didn't know how to get back to that place.
I will write more in detail about what I mean about this…just not today. It is too new. I cannot go there yet. I will in time. If he was here with me today, I would tell him how perfect he is just the way he is…he isn't wrong or bad. He had chosen to explore a different part of the world than I did for sure. I was attached to how his life had to look. I wanted him to go to school. I wanted him to not cuss. I wanted him to be responsible. He was learning all of this his way. I wanted it to be my way. He did and is still teaching me to let go of that. It doesn't always look the way I think it has to look.
I think I have the freedom to write that parenting book now. I now see all the parenting lessons there were for me to learn..funny how that happens sometimes. The lessons are in hindsight. I am happy Phil and I were good when he died. We were very good. The last month of his life he gave me several long and lingering hugs and said it's going to be okay mom. At the time I didn't know what he was talking about….he must have known at some level his time was limited. He had not done this before…not in the same way. It wasn't like I was crying or sad…yet, he was comforting me. Even when he moved out he said, you will be okay without me mom…it's okay. You will get along. He always had that connection with people. At a very deep level he seemed to know what was going on at a spiritual level. I don't mean to make him bigger than he was…I just always noticed how in tune to people he was. I am thankful for this valuable lesson. None of the tasky stuff matters. It is about the people. The relationships. I miss my son. I wish I could just hold him one more time.