So hey! Yeah. It’s been a while. I was humming along, focusing hard on Book 5 of The Book of Sight and diving into our usual busy spring schedule and then BOOM, my son got what we thought was the stomach flu but turned out to be appendicitis. Before we even knew what had happened, they were telling us his appendix had ruptured and we were moving into the hospital for a 9-day stay, followed by several weeks of at home recouperation. So yeah, it’s been a while.

The good news is that my boy is up and around and back to school! He’s 10 pounds skinnier and a little weak still, but he’s going to be just fine. Turns out he’s a pretty tough kid. I could not be more grateful. And here I am, back to work again, trying to pick up the threads of the book and of the rest of my unfinished thoughts. I’m looking through my half-written posts. There’s a great one about the books I’ve been reading this year. Can’t wait to share it with you because there are some really fun books on that list. There’s a funny little poem that I think will tickle your fancy if I can ever get it wrapped up. But for today, I don’t have organized or light-hearted. I have this, which I wrote on accident when I was trying to write something for the book. 

Did you know you can accidentally write something? Ten years ago, I would not have thought that was possible. But it is. It makes me cringe a little, but I’ve decided to share my accident with you because I think it’s time we made contact again, and after all the ups and downs of the last several weeks, this is what I’ve got.  So here you go, my attempt to get back to work. The accidental story.

Once a child was given a choice, to travel the world with her father as he worked or to stay in a cozy home under her grandmother’s care. The child knew that either choice offered love but that neither choice offered perfection. She felt safe and content in her grandmother’s house, surrounded by the friends she had always known but never doing anything outside of her routine. A life with her father would be full of adventure and she would see the world from one end to the other, but he would be her only constant companion and often she would be alone. In the end it was neither security nor adventure that enticed her into making her choice. It was only that when the moment came, she could not bear to be parted from the man that was king in her heart.

Once a girl was given a choice, to marry a wealthy young businessman who could offer her the luxuries of the world or to marry a talented young artist who could offer her the beauty of his imagination. The girl knew that either choice offered her a bright future and that neither choice offered perfection. The businessman was kind and attentive and intelligent though he had little care for her frequent flights of fancy. The artist was brilliant and passionate and romantic though he was certainly quite poor and often distracted by his work. In the end, it was neither beauty nor wealth that swayed the girl’s mind. It was only that when the moment came, she could not bear to be parted from the genius who had stolen her heart.

Once a young mother was give a choice, to accept a position at a famous art institute alongside her husband or to turn the job down to have days at home with her new child. The mother knew that either choice offered a kind of success and that neither choice offered perfection. The teaching position would inspire her and bring attention to her name but would also mean long hours of work away from those she loved. Remaining at home would be a satisfying and contented life but one that was often dull and would neglect some of her own gifts. In the end, it was neither inspiration nor duty that swayed the mother’s mind. It was only that when the moment came, she could not bear to be parted from the little man who had filled up her heart.

Once a woman was given a choice, to fight against the disease raging through her body or to numb herself to the pain of it as it took control. The woman knew that either choice offered difficulty and heartache and also that neither came with guarantees. If she chose to fight, her mind would be clear but she would suffer much pain and still might lose in the end. If she chose to submit, she could be at peace but the separation from the world would come all the quicker. In the end, it was neither the hope of victory nor the fear of pain that made up her mind. It was only that when the moment came, she could not bear to parted from the men who held her hands and her heart.

Once a woman was given a choice. To be wrenched from her heart in bitterness and despair or to say goodbye to her heart with longing but no regret. The woman knew that either choice would be the most painful loss she could imagine and that neither could be taken back once made. If she held on tight until her life was torn away, she might be strong in the end and yet the damage left behind might be permanent. If she let go gently, the hole in her chest might go unrecognized, but the heart she handed over would be whole. In the end, it wasn’t her anger or her fear that made her decision. It was only that when the moment came, she realized she had parted with her heart long ago, and there was really no choice at all.