When I was in 4th grade, it came to me that writing was to be a part of who am. And that's the way it was for many years.
When I was in my 30s, a tragic family happening brought my writing to a sudden stop, and that writer's block seemed permanent. My husband waited patiently for its return, and so did I. It didn't happen.
One Christmas morning, a lovely handmade secretary desk appeared within my home. It was for me. "It was made for you and no one else," my husband said. "I have missed your writing. Now your writing MUST return, for you cannot let that desk sit by itself, unused."
That desk did lead me back to writing. To this day, through these many years of marriage, that desk reminds me of the love my husband feels for me.
|THE MAN WHO LOVES ME|