On this rainy morning after the horrific shooting of innocent children, I search to find something good to write about. As my Google Assistant plays the Liberty Bell March by John Philip Sousa, composed in 1893, I remember my father telling me he rode a bus or streetcar to hear his band play. I also remember my father reading stories to me at bedtime, and I am glad to have a happy childhood.
Even though my mother died of cancer when I was twelve, I was lucky to gain a stepmother, another set of grandparents, another brother, and two sisters at the age of fifteen. I’m also lucky to have survived breast cancer.
While my knee ached when I began a walk around the block, I quit because it was raining, but I’m glad I can still walk, and the ground and plants get needed moisture.
As I sit pondering how to finish my latest novel, I’m glad I can type, even if I’m not a fast typist, but at least I type faster than I can write by hand. Although I’m lucky to have had three novels published by traditional publishers and another soon to be published by Wild Rose Press, I’m glad Amazon and other organizations make it possible for me and other authors to self-publish novels and make them available.
While I scrambled eggs for my husband, I was glad I had eggs and that my older husband is still alive to keep me company.
While at times I have wondered how I was going to pay all my bills in time, I’m glad we have a house and enough money to buy food and pay bills. And best of all, I can afford to go to the Romance Writers of America annual conference near Washington, D.C. and be enthused and energized to write some more novels.
How about you? How many blessings have you taken for granted? I bet if you count them, you’ll find your life is richer than you realized.