Ahhhh, Okay I got it now. It's been a minute for sure.

It's been 1 year and 7 months since I lost my dad. Like you, if you have lost parents there isn't any one way to grieve, it happens in many ways. Sometimes in spurts, or when you see something or someone who may remind you of the loved ones you have lost. For me, it's been really a struggle for various reasons. In the end, he is with Jesus and my mom and sister, along with all the other family members who are already on the other side.

My writing suffered somewhat in that I didn't write. I didn't even pick up much of paper and pen, if you will. No thoughts came to mind, no ideas, not even a hint of wanting to come up with a new book. The day to day was mundane, doing the same things, trying to grieve and live at the same time. Trying to not place blame anywhere but feeling the guilt of things I wish we could have done. I'm sure we've all been in those shoes and if you haven't, I hope you never are.

Looking at the books I have written and remembering the joy it brought me to see dad with his big blue eyes and warm, welcoming smile when he read a book, or saw the newest cover for one of the children's books. Oh, how he loved those books. I recall him seeing the very first book the first time and watching him look at it. He was remembering, he was being reminded of the early years when us kids were in grade school and seeing the books helped with his dementia because the photos in the books were actual photos of us kids with our farm animals growing up. Those moments for him gave him back some memory of the good days as he used to call them, with our mom and dad, family and friends. Oh the days he would look at the books and just smile. I loved those days of watching him with the books. I miss those days, but I don't miss him suffering.

For the longest time after dad died, I was hiding, hiding away in sadness, shying away from the world, friends, and working my days away. I had lost the reason, I suppose and didn't think I'd ever have the desire to write again. But, God...

It wasn't long ago that I had a moment of some sorts. No, I didn't get a big sign, no flashing lights, nothing that big happened. It was a small unexpected moment at a chance encounter when someone told me something about one of the books I wrote and what it meant to them. Then, it reminded me, it reminded me of why, why I wrote those books. Why I write at all, why I gave so much of myself to writing and putting things on paper to be shared with the world and those who wanted to pick up a copy or read my blogs. It was never about fame, money, or even myself. It was always about that smile on my dads face, or the smile from a little child who wanted my autograph. It was the little boy at a school event who ran up to me and said, "You're on the back of my book at home" with his eyes wide open. It was about the kids at the boys and girls club, the elderly at the nursing home who had copies of my books. The teenagers who read the Tales, South of Savannah series that learned about doing good for others and giving back to the community. It was about being able to get books across the country to Africa, to England, to other states, to the homeless etc. It was about them all, and about the gift that God himself put in me. I wasn't using it the way He wanted me to and I knew that I had to make the change. I almost felt embarrassed to have not realized it sooner honestly. But even with God, all things happen when they are supposed to, at least that is what I believe.

So here I sit writing my first blog since March and putting my heart back out in the world of writing and other ways too...:)

If you made it to this point of my post, thank you. Until next time friends...thanks for reading..

--Kristi