My grandmother died on this day in 1985. Even though it's been more than 20 years, her absence still bites like a bitter cold. I wish she would have been here to see me get married and have kids of my own. None of my grandparents were alive to see my best blessings. Each of them, in one way or another, in their lives, lessons, mistakes and deaths helped shape the person and the kind of writer I am today.
Write an essay or a short story on who or what inspired you to write. If you published a book or if you hope to be published, who would you dedicate your book to and why?
My first published work will be dedicated to my grandparents. It's not that I'm not thankful for the support of others around me like my husband and parents, but my stirring to write came from the Annual All-Star cookouts, the best Christmases ever, watching baseball with the men, walking to Dunkin' Donuts with my grandfather and getting Munchkins, being dragged along from tag sale to tag sale, going to Hammonasset every summer where my grandparents camped, my grandmother melting away from cancer, me being at college and not getting to spend time with my dying grandfather. Events of the past, good and bad, are a wellspring of inspiration. Where is your wellspring? Find it and pay a tribute.
~ Signing off and sending out cyber hugs.